


Blue Rose

by Anonymous



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crime Families, Drugs, Graphic Description, Love Triangles, M/M, Sex Work, Sexual Content, Smoking, Swearing, Violence, but also softness, criminals, mafia, mature content, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Kyungsoo is the reckless son of a crime lord- forced to claim his high position after his father is brutally murdered. Chanyeol is the lovesick gangster sworn to protect him.Together they attempt to survive the chaos of a criminal underworld at war.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 39
Kudos: 75
Collections: Anonymous





	1. A Reunion of Roses

**Author's Note:**

> “ _There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice_.”  
> F. Scott Fitzgerald

-

No amount of training could have prepared him for this. 

Chanyeol looked on at the pool of blood on the table, silent, as it began dripping onto the beige carpet, and mixing in with the gooey mess from his boss’ bashed in head. It looked like a high-velocity close range shot. The bullet practically tore through his superior’s skull and dragged everything else into collapse. Brains and all.

It was a disgusting sight and no doubt the highest and most final form of insult for the city’s most powerful gangster.

He took a deep breath and gave permission for his tears to fall. Unashamedly. The slap of grief lessened once the spark of his sickness took over. To that, the six foot gangster found himself running out of the room, out of the factory and throwing the entirety of his guts into the nearest patch of green which happened to be his boss’ favourite flowering hedges.

He retched painfully a few more times before walking back into the room where the rest of the men stood still. They didn’t look frightened when he met their eyes. Just a touch confused. Concerned, perhaps, at the flicks of sick now staining his nice rosy tie. 

"What do we do?” A detached voice asked, speaking for all. 

Chanyeol stared at the body again, inhaled that terrible rotting stench and looked back. 

“Clean it up.” He said. “Then gather everyone here. I…”

He looked at the family crest and nodded his head.

“I need to go to Tokyo immediately.” 

-

Kyungsoo’s pulse was rocketing. Truly. He was being driven to a delirious pleasure and it was fantastic. It was like floating but better; like falling but ecstatic. A single source was yet unconfirmed. It could be the recreationals he’d taken only hours before combined with his favourite vodka shots he’d had served only twenty minutes ago.

It wasn't the dick in him though. That's for sure.

“Ah, ah. _Fuck yeah, fuck_.”

The backpacker under him was far too loud for the humid hostel room they were temporarily having sex in. Kyungsoo had given up on trying to tell him ever since the hard raps against the door from a mortified neighbour had failed flat to send the message. It could’ve been flattering had the pleasure been shared. But that wasn’t the case. 

The pleasure that Kyungsoo was feeling was all swirling within and above. Ass-excluded.

He knew however that the faster this finished, the more chances he had for better things on this strange but blessed night. So he swallowed his pride and smiled widely, sweetly, before lowering his lips to his lover’s beneath him and pushing his hips back slower, tighter. Riding him - touching him with just a breath of practiced affection. 

Lonely men always fell for that fantasy. 

And it was always enough to make them come. 

This time was no different. Kyungsoo kissed him wetly on the lips as the young man beneath him groaned and then grew quiet. The odd silence that followed seemed even odder considering how loud he’d been during sex.

“What about you?” his client asked, once he finished.

Kyungsoo was already up, wiping his face with a tissue. His lower body’s state was redressed with a towel over a chair which he hoped was at least sanitary.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you want to--”

His client eyed his crotch which prompted Kyungsoo to laugh softly. 

“No.” Kyungsoo pocketed his pay as he slipped easily into his oversized hoodie and jeans. “Have a good night."

Outside, Kyungsoo caught sight of his reflection in the elevator mirrors and carefully rubbed the smudge of cum off the corner of his lips with a frown.

At the end of every shift, he liked to have dinner - even when it was 1am and way past the acceptable dinnertime. 

Flashing a warm smile at the waitress, Kyungsoo turned to the boiling soup set across him.

“いただき ます.”

_Itadaki masu (‘I humbly receive.’)_

He didn't wait for it to cool down and ate with some passion whilst looking out at the army of lights that glared at the narrow alleys in his corner of _Kabukicho_. 

He was just halfway into the bowl when the seat across him was taken and a face appeared. One he hadn't seen in a long while. One that more often than not crossed his dreams. His imaginations, perhaps even moreso. Except the real thing looked a little older than he last remembered. Still handsome.

With his pink hair, he looked a little like one of the cute boys from the many host clubs outside. 

They sat in silence and looked at each other for a while. It was Kyungsoo in the end who decided that he wasn't purely daydreaming and spoke first.

"If I didn't know better I'd think you were a ghost. Did Appa send you here? How come? Did I forget a birthday?"

Chanyeol shifted in his seat. His tone was flat and cold.

"Your father is dead, Kyungsoo."

"Oh." Kyungsoo’s eyes widened. He looked up for a second and then down at his bowl before gulping dryly. “I see… how?"

"He was shot."

"Shit."

"I'm sorry." The tone was softer this time. 

Kyungsoo inhaled a restless breath. He repeated the statement a few times in his head for effect. _Your father is dead, Kyungsoo_. His expression shifted. He remembered suddenly how often he must have told his old man to go die or _fuck himself_ which was essentially the same thing. Perhaps this explained the agonisingly hollow echo he felt from the statement. 

He pushed his bowl away, startling his companion.

“I… I’m going now.”

“Kyungsoo--”

“ _Don’t_.” He could have screamed the word but he didn’t. The eatery was still alive around them, happy and carefree, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Don’t.” He looked at Chanyeol as he said the words,“Don’t come near me.”

Of course he wasn’t listened to. Kyungsoo practically ran out of the place, almost tripping over the staircase, as he looked to the exit in the hopes of fading into the late tourist crowd. But he was caught before he even reached the handles. Caught and slammed hard against the hard metal of the door.

He groaned. It stung. 

Chanyeol stood over him, uncomfortably close. 

“Don’t be difficult.” Another step was taken and Kyungsoo was tempted to punch him there and then. “I need you to come with me. You’re not safe."

"I don't have to do shit." Kyungsoo spat.

“Stop it.”

“Fuck off.”

The bastard had the nerve to smirk. 

“...God, I missed you.” This tone - with the smirk - vaguer still. “You’re still such a pain in the ass but I really have.”

Kyungsoo blinked a few times and then smirked back. 

“Oh yeah?” 

He stepped forward, daringly taking those final inches that separated them, letting fabric lean against fabric. The effect was instant. The gangster’s posture lowered as his breaths quickened. His hard gaze shifted from Kyungsoo’s eyes to his lips. All his weapons were on the floor now. Lost in one subconscious action; with one ugly clang. 

“Too bad, Chanyeol. Because I didn’t miss you at all.” 

And then he shoved him back, harder than he was shoved, and hard enough that he was able to escape the taller man as he pulled the door back and ran out to bleed into the midnight masses still pounding the pavement.

-

Forty eight hours pass and Kyungsoo was still being ceaselessly hounded. 

Although Chanyeol withheld from confronting him as he had, Kyungsoo found that he was being followed wherever he went. From convenience store to subway station, the gangster with the light pink hair made sure to set himself a few metres behind, a subway carriage across, and irritatingly confined their interactions to a single wave and wink whenever their gazes happened to cross. 

The avenue that his life had taken meant that this was something that Kyungsoo was really used to. So much so that he found himself employing the old tricks he used to do to lose any stalker. Eventually, after much failure, one worked. The old _subway line switch_ , consisting of sliding into consecutive trains on adjacent platforms and slipping out last minute. A simple but effective plan as his pursuant found himself trapped in by the rush hour mass as Kyungsoo effortlessly returned to the platform.

When he watched him go, he ensured to give him the middle finger for good measure.

A wave of relief washed over him as the train disappeared.

Now to fuck.

Kyungsoo had been prevented from completing his business affairs with Chanyeol on his tail. Now with some free time, he needed to make money and make it fast so he texted the most recent offer back -- _35,000 ¥ for the night, baby boy?_ \-- and prepared himself as best as he could. A cheap scrub and change in a public bathhouse. A fifteen minute meditative episode on the train over. And a light touch of make-up. By the time he got off his stop it was like nothing had changed. This wasn’t the first time he’d encountered this sort of trouble on the road after all.

The neighbourhood he found himself in was suburban and quiet. His client was just as he’d imagined too: suburban and quiet. A whole host of observations slid into Kyungsoo’s mind as they greeted each other, in that awkward and odd way that strangers naturally would just before they fuck. Tonight however, Kyungsoo found that he was a little more impatient than usual and so, before any alcohol was even offered, he found himself on his knees soberly and half-heartedly jacking off a soft cock with his hand.

 _Your father is dead, Kyungsoo._.

What a time for him to remember it. To think of his father being dead. To hear Chanyeol’s voice say his name.

_I’ve missed you._

Did he imagine that part? How could you miss someone you never tried to look for? If you missed someone, wouldn’t you have said so before meeting them again an entire country away?

“You’re bad at this.”

The stranger’s leer broke through his wall of thoughts like a hammer. Kyungsoo looked up, mid-jack, and froze as his client lowered his face down to him and whispered,

“I was going to do it after I fucked you- but I bet you’d make a crap whore.”

He wasn’t speaking Japanese. This was why it sounded odd right away. And this was also probably why Kyungsoo was suddenly shoved and straddled to the floor by a half-naked business-man with large clammy hands that wanted nothing more but to squeeze his airways until the bones crunched.

He was much heavier than he looked, Kyungsoo thought as he twisted on the floor, thoroughly weighed down by the body that clamped him against the cold wooden floor. His hands were heavier still. Kyungsoo couldn’t think straight for long enough to figure out what was worse -- the foreign weight crushing his middle or the airway constriction that was stealing his oxygen. 

He was struggling but not as much.

 _Your father is dead, Kyungsoo_.

He needed to fight much harder than this.

 _Your father is dead, Kyungsoo_.

The ceiling was an ugly colour.

 _Your father is dead, Kyungsoo_.

In the distance, a door slammed. A loud shout. Footsteps. The immense weight disappeared and in a single second Kyungsoo’s chest filled with a gallon of air and it felt glorious. Kyungsoo’s eyes opened -- really, completely opened -- and when he saw the pink hair, the handsome face, against that dusty ceiling, he found himself taking another deep and immense breath. This was less glorious. More panicked. It took a set of short quick gasps before he was able to speak.

“Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol was frantic and sweating. “Are you okay?”

Kyungsoo nodded and remained on the floor. He stared at the ceiling before peering at the ambiguous lump on the other side. It was his client’s crippled form no doubt - likely to still be there with his limp dick out. He shouldn’t have ignored the red flags when he saw the tattoos of crosses that lined the guy’s neckline. That was hardly something he would find on a businessman in these parts.

He sighed, swore, and then sat up. 

“So… Appa really is dead then.” he told Chanyeol as he rubbed the sore part of his neck.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck!” It came out as a sob. “For f--fuck’s sake!” He was crying even when he didn’t want to and he didn’t even know whether he was crying about Appa anymore. The fact that he had almost died was only just sinking in and the fear was hitting him in slow impactful waves. It was scary. He was scared.

“He won’t be the only one sent here for you.” Chanyeol said. “We need to go home.”

“I don’t want to.” 

The tears were still falling. Kyungsoo thought something had burst in his chest. It was probably the most alive he’d felt since leaving home and it was awful. 

“Please, Kyungsoo.”

"I thought it was all over."

"It’s not. It’s just starting.”

Through his tears, a kind hand appeared and finally reached for him. At the base of its thumb, the familiar tattoo of a rose. It must have been something that he’d dreamed about because Kyungsoo couldn’t bring himself to reject it. Instead he accepted it and welcomed it - and held it - _him_. Held him. 

The touching of their fingers became a reunion of roses. 

It was the first touch he’d welcomed in a long time and it was the one he needed. So there was no surprise that once the tears stopped falling, the answer he gave was in the form of a resigned nod.

-

All of Kyungsoo’s few belongings in Japan were left behind. His two mobile phones were somewhere in pieces floating in the Meguro river.

The flight home was easy because everything needed in transit was organised for him. He was driven back to his family office to complete the last length by Chanyeol in a rental Audi. They barely talked and when they did the conversation was nothing memorable.

Kyungsoo remembered asking about how the other had found him that night and the gangster had laughed and said something about location trackers. But there was nothing to confirm that this conversation had happened as Kyungsoo had been feeling like he’s been floating since that night he ate that soup set. 

A remote feeling that became noticeably terrible when he found himself sat across his father’s familiar desk with no father to face.

“So he died here,” Kyungsoo said.

“Yes.” Chanyeol answered. He stood at the back with the rest of the men.

“He was… killed. You said.”

“Yes.” He answered again.

“And by whom, you don’t know yet.”

“That’s right.” And again.

Around Chanyeol, was a close circle of six. Outside the office door were another six -- and even further out, in the many corners of their shadowy city, there were many more men who had answers to questions that Kyungsoo wanted to ask.

“Have you all lost your voices then?” Kyungsoo looked back at the others. From the eldest, his three uncles - all from his mother’s side - to the youngest, he looked and asked them for their voices.

“Kyungsoo. We apologise that we buried your father in your absence. But you must understand that the quicker we… managed the situation, the less risky it became..”

Sangchul. His mother’s oldest brother. Tasked with the organisation of the group’s finances. He was still the same as Kyungsoo remembered him - still as unpleasant to listen to, as dull to look at and as irritating as his father privately complained about. He was a know-it-all. Always wanted to be the first to give his piece.

“Kyungsoo.”

And there went another. Dongsuk. If Sangchul had epitomised boredom, then his brother epitomised the opposite - that of chaos and _dirt_. These were what Kyungsoo attributed to his mother’s twin. He was a cheater at everything. A thorough gangster at heart. Even here, when he was endeavouring to seem familial, it sounded like he was being inconvenienced.

How the divine expertly spared his beloved mother the jarring qualities of her male siblings, Kyungsoo didn’t know. All he could be certain of was that no matter how sorry they seemed stood in front of him now, they likely didn’t give a flying fuck about his father’s death. It wouldn’t surprise him to know if his uncles had held a private celebration straight after hearing the news of his father’s brains spilled all over his beloved cedar wood desk. Sangchul. Dongsuk. And the youngest - Changnam. His mother’s half-brother and far too young to be an uncle to anyone. 

Kyungsoo hated him the most and he showed it in the way he looked at him as the young man lazily reclined against his father’s book-shelf, rolling a cigarette on the window-sill.

Dongsuk cleared his throat.

“Did you hear what I said?” 

“No.” Kyungsoo answered sternly.

The room grew hushed. Changnam continued to roll his cigarette. Kyungsoo placed a hand on the spot where he imagined his father had placed his head for the final time. His hand rolled into a fist which he slammed hard against the wood. Something shook. Perhaps it was Kyungsoo - or perhaps it was nothing but the rustle of Changnam’s rollie.

“I want everyone out.”

“But Kyungsoo,” Sangchul laughed nervously. “We have everyone here to show respect - the Byuns even sent -”

Another slam.

“Out.” Kyungsoo waited until he heard the door open before turning to watch the bodies leave the room. 

Chanyeol remained at his spot in the room, arms folded across his chest with a petulant twinkle in his eye. A twinkle that shone brighter when the room emptied and he wasn’t asked to leave when the door was abruptly shut.

“Spare me the sparkle,” Kyungsoo murmured, taking his father’s chair and ignoring the unpleasant twist in his stomach as he did so, “What do you think happened to Appa?”

“What do I think?” 

The twinkle dimmed and turned into something a little less familiar to Kyungsoo. A touch of cynicism that made Chanyeol seem a little more grown-up than he remembered. 

“Your father was looking to do some tie-ups with the Kims and somebody didn’t like the look of it.” Chanyeol shrugged his shoulders. “It’s the most likely reason for why it happened like this and why it happened now.” 

“The Kims?” 

Kyungsoo stuck his tongue out like he’d eaten something bitter. 

“I thought they’d taken themselves underground.”

“You’re thinking of the Kims under Kim Myungdae. These are a different set of Kims. They play differently. At least ever since his grandson took over and your father really took a liking to him.”

“Oh? Is he pretty?”

Chanyeol smiled. 

“He is. And he’s pretty rich in connections.”

“What kind?”

“The international kind.” 

Kyungsoo whistled before placing his head right where he imagined his father had.

“Whilst I was away,I made some international connections too.” He mused, “Do you think Appa would’ve taken a liking to me?”

His companion sighed loudly.

“You know your Appa loved you.”

Kyungsoo whistled again before laughing. The desk felt ice cold against his cheek.

“On the day I left home, I told him to say one thing to make me stay. He couldn’t do it because he wanted me to go. He hated me being here just as much as I hated being here. And he would’ve hated knowing that his death meant that I’d be back here, with my head on his desk, dragging in all the shit I told him to eat when I left. In fact, I even remember saying I’d rather cut my own tongue out than say our family name again. It might be the last thing he remembers me saying to him.”

“Jeez.”

“You didn’t think it was all fine did you? When I left?” Kyungsoo raised his head. “Or maybe you did.”

The gangster said nothing and remained against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He was in a three-piece suit in the middle of summer. The air conditioner was on full blast but there was still a slant of humidity in the air. He must be boiling.

“I don’t want to say anything.”

Chanyeol began.

“You won’t believe me anyway.” 

“Then don’t say anything.” Kyungsoo closed his eyes with a frown. Against the desk, he could feel the hard thrum of his heartbeat. “You never do anyway.”

A whispered _fuck you_ touched and heavied the air.

Kyungsoo laughed, though he felt like crying after a while. He waited it out to hear the soft click of the door opening and closing but it never came. The sight that met him instead, after a period of waiting, was a gangster in a white dress shirt, puffing cigarette smoke out of the open window.

It was something they used to do together when his Appa was away and he was confined to man the office. A dreadful habit considering that the office was nowhere near fire-proof and one little misstep could start a blaze. 

Chanyeol’s head was tilted to the side as he smoked idly with one arm still folded. Behind him, against the dazzle of the peninsula’s sunset, he looked like a catalogue model in one of those fancy editorials they sold at the convenience stores. These were the moments, truly, when Kyungsoo recognised that his natural effect on him would never be cheapened by their industry. 

“I missed you.” Kyungsoo said loudly. “and I know you hated me for leaving.”

Chanyeol smiled back. 

“Like hell.” 

“Do you forgive me yet?”

“Depends.” The cigarette was flicked away. “Will you promise not to go again?”

Kyungsoo shook his head.

“I’m not sure whether to do promises anymore,” he sighed. “They’re getting harder and harder to keep.”

“I agree with you.” Chanyeol said. “But I still try and keep the ones I’ve made.”

“Even the ones to me?”

Chanyeol didn’t answer. When Kyungsoo looked at him again, his back was completely turned and he was smoking another stick. There was no noise - just the jittery grumble of the air conditioner.

 _He’s thinking._ Kyungsoo thought sadly, as he buried his head into his arm. _I hope it’s of me._

_Promise you won’t tell Appa that I was the one who joyrided. Promise me!_

_Fine, fine._

This was a memorable moment in Chanyeol’s young life because it was the only time he remembered being reprimanded personally by Do Shiwoo in his office. Normally he just got a beating from one of the older associates - but being invited here, to this special office was just as exciting to him as it was scary. 

He remembered being intimidated by everything from the door onwards but the gangster’s cedar desk most of all. He had felt woefully small in it when he confessed that he had been the one to take the car and drive the gangster’s son around, despite knowing that Kyungsoo had tutoring, and that the younger boy had an early curfew that disallowed him from travelling to certain parts of town without his father’s bodyguard team present. 

Shiwoo said nothing until the story finished.

“ _I know you’re lying, Chanyeol. So why continue to tell these stories for my son?_ ”

Chanyeol had been in too much shock to answer. He thought the lie had been fairly decent.

“ _Is it because of your friendship, is that it?_ ”

Chanyeol felt the strongest urge to nod but still a part of him refused - knowing that it would be a betrayal. It was an amazing example of self control. 

“ _He will be punished too. Even if you refuse to name him…. Still nothing?_ ”

Not a single peep. Shiwoo grinned.

“ _Should I be worried about your loyalties to each other?_ ” He paused. “ _Or should I be reassured_?”

“ _R-Reassured._ ” Chanyeol stuttered.

Shiwoo appeared surprised at the sound of his voice. “ _And why is that?_ ”

Chanyeol surprised the senior again by falling to his knees in a dramatic clamour and bowing his head right down to touch the floor. It was a sign of respect. Obedience. And also ensured that he was in the position to take a punishment if it was the wrong response.

“ _Because he’s your son!_ He declared, shaking - _“a-a-nd whatever happens, I will remain loyal to him. And to you. I will always protect him and you. With my life… if… if I have to._ ” 

Chanyeol didn’t know how long he must have bowed or what Shiwoo thought of his answer but at some point he was allowed to leave the office without even a slap to the wrist. 

When he came out to fresh air, he was met with the sight of Kyungsoo waiting for him by the stone bench in the quad’s gardens. His attention was wrongly glued to the opposing exit to the building. Chanyeol paused in his spot and chose to observe the worry lines on Kyungsoo’s face. The nervous twisting of the fabric of his jacket. 

He stood there for a whole minute and thought about the pinkness of Kyungsoo’s cheeks and how deep the colour had become from how long he had been waiting in the spring breeze.

Chanyeol answered the question eventually. His tone was thoughtful and warm.

“I’ve tried to keep them. Especially the ones to you.”

“Thanks.” Kyungsoo responded. “I will need you to promise something new now.”

The gangster raised an eyebrow and turned.

“And what’s that?”

“Promise that we’ll find whoever did this to my father.”

No hesitation was shared. Chanyeol nodded firmly.

Kyungsoo stretched out an arm across the wood and raised his thumb. He watched contentedly as a broad smile spread across the other’s face. 

“Do you still remember how to do it?”

“It really hasn’t been that long.”

Chanyeol approached the table with some pace. He repeated the exact gesture after crouching across the desk. Their fists bumped and their thumbs touched in a gentle dance. The matching tattoos appeared in perfect symmetry. A reunion of two roses. In the light it was so pretty to look at that Kyungsoo allowed it to remain there. The amount of times he must have talked himself out of drawing over his own rose was countless. But it was all worth it now. Seeing it where it ultimately belonged.

"Promise.” Kyungsoo said.

“Promise,” echoed Chanyeol. 

Sadness tinged the corner of Kyungsoo’s smile after their hands withdrew and Chanyeol returned to the window.

From where the gangster stood in survey, the quad gardens were visible. If he looked close enough, he thought he could see a young Kyungsoo and his pink cheeks again and a Chanyeol too, a younger Chanyeol, crossing the gardens nervously and opening his mouth to proclaim how he didn’t snitch even when he felt that he had. 

_You’re okay? Thank the fuck! I thought something had happened to you. You were in there for so long!_

Kyungsoo threw his head back and laughed as he ran to him. It was such a bright expression that his whole body seemed to carry the joy too. 

_You’re shaking. Are you good?_

Chanyeol looked on as Kyungsoo took his hands into his. _Your ears are all pink. And your cheeks-_ He touched them all and he let him. Even let him throw a playful fist against his elbow even when it hurt.

_C’mon Chanyeol say something. Don’t leave me hanging!_

_Say something!_

The memory made him smile even now.

_I think I’m your bodyguard now._

The young Chanyeol smiled widely, obviously proud, as he excitedly watched the emotions crossing the other’s face.

_What?_

_I get to protect you. Isn’t that great?_

He poked Kyungsoo’s round pink cheek and grinned as it grew pinker. 

_It means I’ll always be around to drive you... and take you to places... and nobody will be able to say otherwise._

The soft wind caressed his dark hair. Chanyeol watched it and ignored the way his heartbeat raced.

_Good._

Kyungsoo shrugged before laughing as he turned away.

_You're the only one I want to be with anyway._

-


	2. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”_  
>  ― George Orwell, 1984

-

How do you find out your dad's a gangster?

For some it was as natural a process as learning about why the sky was blue or where babies came from. But for Kyungsoo, this essential piece of knowledge landed on his lap on the day that he found himself crying in class, at the tender age of six, after having his lunch money stolen by the class bully. With large weepy eyes, he sat in his seat and bawled, hushed only by the cackles that followed from a classmate as he screamed - 

_Haha! Minho's gonna die cause Kyungsoo's appa is a gangster!!!_

To this day, he never forgot the conversation that took place after. Him, a little boy - still with baby teeth - asking his Appa whether he was a gangster and whether that was the same as Junnie’s dad who was a _doctor_. The basics were explained to him: mainly that he couldn’t go around repeating that any more than he could say the ‘f’ word in public. 

Being a little kid, his father’s dismissal only made his curiosity about the whole thing worse. Within a week, not only did Kyungsoo find out what a gangster meant - he equally made the personal decision to _own_ it. He understood that his Appa’s job meant that people were scared of him and by extension, they must also be scared of his son. Thinking he could get away with anything he wanted, Kyungsoo did everything he could to test the theory until he claimed the ultimate prize.

Expulsion. 

At eight years old, he was moved away from formal education and privately tutored far away from the children who did nothing but torment him. It was around this key time that Kyungsoo was also introduced to Chanyeol for the first time. He had been little then too. Kyungsoo could still remember eyeing him with heavy suspicion - the little boy with long hair and the provincial tan. He had been wearing a big bright shirt with an American slogan that Kyungsoo couldn’t understand. 

" _Chanyeol. This is my son, Kyungsoo._ ” His father squeezed his shoulders as he frowned at the stranger, “ _Kyungsoo, this is Chanyeol. He is your senior of two years. You two will take the same classes together from now on._ ”

Kyungsoo sniffed like he'd detected something unpleasant.

“ _But Appa, whyyy…_ ” He whined, in the presence of not only his father and new classmate - but of at least a dozen men watching the first meeting in the factory floor. “ _I don’t want him here._ ”

“ _Kyungsoo._ ” Shiwoo’s voice was stern. 

Chanyeol appeared unmoved. Kyungsoo would later find out that the comment had unsurprisingly hurt him. He would also later find out, after the many fights that broke out between the two boys in their first month together, that it was during this meeting that Chanyeol decided that he would throw the first punch.

A punch that was thrown during their literary lesson that same week. Kyungsoo had deliberately tipped a glass of water over Chanyeol’s work and ended up crying after he was punched hard in the stomach. 

_‘APPA LOOK AT WHAT THAT BOY DID! APPA!’_

His father responded minimally, which furthered Kyungsoo’s upset and probably contributed to the many other fights that followed. But it was all water under the bridge now. After the chaos of that initial month, things became calm as things often did between boys, and the two became playmates. Instead of punching each other, Kyungsoo pinched Chanyeol’s ear to make him laugh and the other poked his cheek to make it blush. 

And not that long after, Kyungsoo shared a secret with Chanyeol.

_Appa is a gangster. Did you know that?_

Chanyeol looked at him for a while after and said nothing. Kyungsoo had expected some sort of response and pressed it innocently a few times.

_Do you know what that means?_

_Do you?_

Shortly after, Chanyeol left the room in a hurry. Kyungsoo found out the next day that he was too sick to attend their classes. Why? He asked.

Panic attacks, was all his Appa said.

There was an ongoing joke in their city circles that attempting to get an audience with Byun Baekhyun was harder than getting one with the president. A snapshot into his schedule and it was clear that he was unbelievably busy for the son of a gangster. Whereas most of his generation used their waves of free time and cash to fuck around - Baekhyun was the productive opposite. He applied all his free time and influence to more interesting ventures - more physical ones even. The young Byun ran gyms, funded boxing clubs, built tennis courts and donated to community basketball spaces. All of them he used and had a passion for. This year Baekhyun's attention had turned to the curt art of fencing.

Today was their long-awaited meeting. Chanyeol watched Baekhyun keenly as he fenced with his opponent in the gym he had converted into a training space. Although he was a beginner, his passion was plain in the fact that he was able to steal some points from his far more experienced teacher. The sparring session was shortened to account for Chanyeol's presence. After removing his helmet, revealing a head matted with sweat, Baekhyun made a gesture to ask Chanyeol whether he would like a turn. He was refused with a bemused shake of the head. 

"Suit yourself." Baekhyun said belatedly after a refreshing chug of an energy drink he had on the side. "And nice of you to show up. Bit late aren't we? I've lost count of the invites I've sent. I was about to send a fruit basket next."

The helmet was tossed carelessly to the side. A goodbye was delivered to the teacher in a foreign dialect. With all distractions out of the way Baekhyun finally turned to him with his signature smile - square-shaped, boyish and objectively handsome. It was carried by a body that had the jumpiness of a spring. This season’s hair: a wonderful sleek blonde. Never would anyone look at him and think that he was trained to an olympic level in several martial art disciplines - and a steady sharp-shooter, if the rumours were to be believed.

He was also a bit annoying when he let his mouth run, which he did too often for Chanyeol’s liking.

“So, how did he look? Brains everywhere and stuff?” Baekhyun asked as he stripped out of his fence suit to reveal airier gym clothes underneath. He was shameless and speedy. 

At Chanyeol’s obvious humourless response, he only laughed more. “C’mon tall-stuff lighten up. I loved Uncle Shiwoo.”

“You still can’t make jokes like that.”

“Why not?” They walked out of the training space and onto the patio that led out into the vast gardens. By the door, a maid stood who Baekhyun greeted with an elegant flutter of the hand as she passed him a towel and another of the same energy drink. “You’re sensitive cause Kyungsoo’s back right? Of course. You don’t need to say any more.” He chugged some more of it.

Chanyeol’s face remained still as he folded his arms.

“You told me to come because you had an update.”

“And I do.” Baekhyun said. “Grandpa says, that any more delay on a formal open memorial will be a disgrace to Uncle Shiwoo’s name. So, you need to get Kyungsoo to agree to that. Second, you suspect the Shins right? Well guess who was spotted vacating the fish market this morning.”

“Shin Kyuhyun. I heard.” The name brought a nasty taste to Chanyeol's tongue. Shin Kyuhyun. A smug bastard if there ever was one. The bad blood between the Shins and Dos commenced long before Chanyeol became a part of the latter but he understood why there was so much hatred. The Shins were dirty players. Always had been.

However he wasn't going to jump to a conclusion just because one was out in the open. 

“Maybe they thought they’d be accused so they’re preparing.” He suggested. 

Baekhyun nodded without looking back. “That’s what I thought. Until I got this little beauty through my letterbox.”

From seemingly nowhere, a small white envelope was produced. Formally stamped with the Shin family crest and stained in purple.

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow. “An audience?” 

"Yes. They’re building a defence. They appear to expect an imminent retaliation because they’re… well. It’s practically an acceptance of responsibility isn't it? Now they want to know who their foot soldiers are… and possibly what price they would need to pay to get them. So they are trying to get everyone who's anyone together."

An audible sigh. Chanyeol returned the letter as he pushed hard fingers against his temple in slow circles.

"Will your family go?" He asked.

Baekhyun looked back and frowned. "Why would you ask that? As far as my Grandpa's concerned, the Byuns and Dos go as far back as the time of Christ."

The statement softened Chanyeol’s expression. It was nice to have a friend during these times, he thought - and friends were particularly useful in times of war.

The topic shifted when Baekhyun turned to him and it dawned on Chanyeol that they had already circled the gardens once over.

“Have you spoken to Kyungsoo? About this?” 

Chanyeol's gaze rested on the flowerbeds close to his feet. There were pretty wildflowers who bloomed irrespective of season. “I’m letting him settle in." He said. "It’s a lot to take in one go."

"Well." Baekhyun's tone shifted as he sent Chanyeol a wry smile. “Wait till he hears what you’ve been up to since he’s been away. I think he’s going to find that particularly heavy to take too."

Although delivered as a joke, it certainly wasn't received as one. The frown on Chanyeol's face re-appeared. 

“Lighten up, bro.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “Promise. He won't hear it from me, if that makes you feel better."

Behind them, not very far away but seemingly distant in sound, the maid called out to them. Chanyeol didn't quite hear it but Baekhyun walked back with an obvious spring in his step. A body appeared in the doorway. It became clear that it was Kyungsoo - dressed in denim and a plain t-shirt. His serious face softened from a hard squint as the two got closer. Chanyeol observed that he looked better than he did this morning when he couldn’t even get up to piss. 

Baekhyun's greeting was inscrutably affectionate. He opened his arms wide and once Kyungsoo was settled in, trapped him tight and spoilt his cheeks with kisses. Chanyeol didn't expect anything less. The relationship between the two had always been borderline unbelievable; in that their adoration for each other was _quite disgusting._

“ _Moshi moshi_ , my cutie boy. Welcome home." Baekhyun hummed, delighted.

“You smell.” Kyungsoo retorted, red-faced as he pushed Baekhyun's lips away in a playful way. “I actually wanted to come earlier but I was left behind."

"As long as you're here now."

Blink, and Chanyeol was sure their lips would touch. But it didn't. Instead he found his attention picking up on something more pressing.

“Where are your guards?” he inched his head sideways to look behind them. "Are they-"

“At home.”

“ _What!_ I told you not to leave without them.”

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes like a child.

“I got here fine, didn’t I?”

“Shit. Kyungsoo. Do you never listen?”

They were glaring at each other intensely enough that Baekhyun felt it necessary to step in. He cleared his throat and then placed a gentle pat on Kyungsoo's shoulder.

“Aw, it’s just like old times. You two fighting like a divorced couple. And me, in the middle, like your confused child…. Now all we need is some street food and it's every meet-up we have ever had!"

"You're in luck." Kyungsoo uttered, still frowning, "I stopped by a market stall."

There was some vague irritation in Chanyeol after determining that Baekhyun was right in that most of their meet-ups frequently descended into a structure of nonsense, fights, which was only glazed over by street food. This time Kyungsoo had bought seafood skewers, sloshed in sweet chili sauce. His favourite, Chanyeol noted, when he was feeling sad.

Baekhyun excused himself to shower so they were left alone in the gardens to eat by the immaculate fountain. Chanyeol ate a few and watched Kyungsoo eat across him on occasion. At some point he forgot why he was angry and poked Kyungsoo with a skewer stick until he was noticed. The other responded by offering him another.

"Eat up." He ordered.

"No, I'm on a diet."

"Why?" Kyungsoo asked. "Are you dating?"

His tone was so harsh. Chanyeol smiled and refused it again. "Eat the skewer. We need your strength. We need to hold a memorial for your father."

"You haven't had one yet?” 

"I wanted to wait for you." The stench of cigarette smoke filled the air as Chanyeol lit one, ensuring to puff the smoke low as Baekhyun passionately despised smoking. "I know it’s going to be a hard one to hold but we also need it to understand how to retaliate… providing that we retaliate that is."

"Of course we're retaliating." Kyungsoo broke a skewer stick in half and mumbled, "Just because I'm grieving doesn't mean I've become a pussy."

Chanyeol's face was broken by a broad smile. He didn’t let it falter until Kyungsoo finally smiled too.

The cigarette was stubbed out against the concrete fountain. "I'll send the word out then."

"Do so. And feel free not to invite my uncles."

"Ha." 

"Apparently Changnam tried to see me." 

Chanyeol's pocket vibrated. He took out his phone and frowned at what he read.

"And?"

"I told him to eat shit."

"I don't know if I can say that to him." He moved around, showing intention of leaving. "But I'll tell them at the house not to let him in--"

Kyungsoo’s hand gripped his arm tight. "Where are you going?"

"I'm needed in town." A universal code for: _gangster business._

Kyungsoo frowned. He looked down as he asked, "When did you start doing town work?"

His phone vibrated again. Chanyeol shook the arm away. 

"I'll explain it to you another time." 

He walked towards the direction of the door only to be stopped by a simple - 

"Chanyeol, be careful."

The words hung there, light and heavy in equal measure. Chanyeol turned to look at him and felt an uneasiness in his chest. Pleasant and mysterious. He sent him a smile in the hopes of reassuring him. 

"I'll see you tonight."

"Oh. No goodbye kisses?" Baekhyun interrupted as he walked towards them and hooked an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulder. "Don’t worry. I've got him… and you-" he raised a finger in Chanyeol’s direction, "Light a cigarette in my botanical garden again and I will have you manhandled off the premises. 

Laughter was shared. Chanyeol placed another cigarette between his lips to tease and playfully darted away after getting chased down by the houseowner. 

“Let’s have some tea while you tell me about your time away.” Baekhyun said with a smile after he returned to Kyungsoo, “You owe me that much, wouldn’t you think?” 

The tea room in Baekhyun’s residence was modelled on a traditional Japanese _chashitsu_. They sat on the tatami mats across each other. Between them, tea bowls half-full of steaming ocha. The conversation began on fairly benign topics. His travels. His lovely skin. Kyungsoo felt himself unwinding in a way he hadn’t in a long time - all because he was comfortable with Baekhyun in a way that was different to anyone. Even as children, whilst Chanyeol was strict and often followed his father’s dictum, it was Baekhyun - three and a half years his senior - who always took his side and encouraged him to be wayward. 

To fight; to be free. 

“I feel like a lot has changed since I’ve been away.” Kyungsoo said. He blew into his bowl as he sipped. “More than I could have imagined.”

“You've been away for two straight years, Kyungsoo-yah. Change is inevitable." Baekhyun answered, smiling. 

An odd silence followed, carried somewhat by the seeming question that Baekhyun’s bright eyes posed. One he didn’t articulate until a moment later.

"I have to share with you. When you disappeared, I was confused as to why you didn't come to see me…why you left so suddenly. But I think I understand now. Seeing what can happen here when things go shit’s-up. I know why it seems easier to get away as soon as you can."

“I hope I didn’t offend you.”

“No, of course not.” Baekhyun lowered his tea bowl. “You broke my heart. But offend? _No_.”

Kyungsoo felt his stomach twist. He wished he hadn’t said that. “Baekhyun-” he murmured. “I’ve said sorry.”

“And I’ve forgiven you.”

Another long pause. The only sound was that of the outdoors - that lovely summer chorus of birds, breeze and the slow beat of a suburb in peace. Kyungsoo felt his heart lift at the sensation of Baekhyun’s hand reaching across to hold his as if to say that his forgiveness was reinforced. He smiled back as he squeezed the hand in return. It was over. They were back and it was summertime. 

“I’ll need you now.” He said, “I’ve come home to wartime.”

More tea was poured out by Baekhyun’s practiced actions.

“And you have me. You always have. And my family are yours too.”

“Thank you Baekhyun.”

“Well I’m just doing my duty.” Baekhyun said. “The last time that the families fought, everyone lost out. Your mother. My father…" He looked to the room of the family shrine. "But sometimes, peace doesn't come with a wave of a flag. It comes with bloodshed. This is something that can’t be managed alone and we both understand that.”

Kyungsoo respectfully drained the tea that was offered. It was hot and bitter but never had he felt more comforted since coming back.

“Also,” Baekhyun continued. “I love you to bits.”

The words were so quintessentially characteristic of him. Kyungsoo had missed him so much and it clawed on him now as he thought he would cry from its burden. They weren’t little boys anymore and yet, he would always feel that way in the presence of Baekhyun - whom he would always adore. 

“I love you too.” He said, “and I am so glad to be here with you again.”

The smile that shone on Baekhyun’s face was enough to soothe Kyungsoo’s fears that his departure had made an irreparable mark on an otherwise eternal connection. They talked a little more, returning once again to more benign things, and once the tea was taken away and they were able to get closer to one another - a single subject - and activity emerged as the only thing to naturally follow their tea ceremony.

“Fuck it. Let’s get high.” Baekhyun said.

Kyungsoo exhaled in relief and nodded his head.

“Please.”

-

It was late when Chanyeol returned to finally take his rest at the Do residence. He returned, wide-eyed, to the breaking news that Kyungsoo had requested to stay over at the Byuns. Did he have his own stand-in guard? No. Someone got a hard whack to the head as Chanyeol put on his shoes and made the drive to Baekhyun’s home without an ounce of hesitation. Once there, he was kindly told by the maid that they had _gone out_. This concerned him even more. And once he determined what Baekhyun was wearing and whether some eyeliner was involved, he knew exactly where to go. 

Club _Overdose_.

It was a popular city-based club ran by Baekhyun's brother and a hotspot for the city's youth-- criminal or otherwise. Chanyeol entered, without trouble, as he knew the bouncers but found it hard to navigate the club on a Friday night at summer. It was sweaty and sticky and the music was roaring. People walked around, vaguely clothed, and the lighting was so dim that it made him nauseous and exhausted his eyes. 

He escaped the clutches of the main dance floor and aimed straight for the VIP area which he identified to be on an upper floor. It was there that he found Kyungsoo, dressed in a sleek black leather ensemble, walled in behind guards. There were others around him but Chanyeol didn’t know them. Baekhyun was sat right in the middle with a boy to the side and a girl laughing on his lap. Kyungsoo was drinking a bubbly drink when their gazes met.

"Hey! Look who arrived!" Baekhyun announced to the cheers of strangers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Chanyeol fumed. His attention remained on Kyungsoo even when Baekhyun was the one doing the answering. 

"Chill, bro. This place is safe."

 _His dad got shot in his own office. No place is safe._ The bitter voice in Chanyeol’s head muttered but he kept silent and continued to look at Kyungsoo whose own expression was proving hard to read. Possibly because of the lights - or possibly because he didn’t know exactly what to feel. 

"I'm sorry Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said, teeth gritted as he spoke. “I am going to have to take him home."

Baekhyun gestured a thumbs down as he motioned for the girl on his lap to move side. "Come on Chanyeol. Twenty minutes. Sit down and have a drink first."

The answer was left for Kyungsoo to discern. The man in leather drained his bubbly drink and sent Baekhyun a nod.

"I'll go. I’m a little tired anyway.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and then joined Chanyeol standing up. 

The pair found their way out of the spirals of people. Chanyeol started to make his way to his parked car and it took a moment to register that he wasn't being followed suit.

"I can't go home." Kyungsoo said loudly over the escaping noise of the adjacent club.

In the dark, away from the harsh hit of the club lights, his outfit made him look smaller.

"What do you mean?" Chanyeol demanded.

"Ap-pa." Kyungsoo's eyes were wide. His voice sounded thin. "It's so quiet. I can't sleep. I can't stay there right now."

Since Chanyeol typically stayed over at the Do residence during his work days, he couldn't provide an alternative place to stay the night. Kyungsoo, sharp-eyed as ever, gestured to the fact that there was a love hotel around the corner.

_Hotel Artificial Love._

Fatigue struck Chanyeol then. He suddenly found that he had no energy to argue anymore. With a nod he took Kyungsoo to the aforementioned love hotel, paid in cash for a one night's stay and found himself inside a quiet and comfortable room on the third floor. As was love hotel culture, the walls were zebra striped and the ceiling had mirrors but the double bed was soft enough and the pillows felt nice against his aching neck.

He fell asleep without ever meaning to. When he woke up again, a freshly showered Kyungsoo had taken the spot beside him and had yawned loudly twice in a row.

"Sorry." His voice sounded raw. "Did I wake you?"

"It's alright." Chanyeol's body felt unusually heavy. He exhaled which only worsened it. He raised an arm to look at the time.

Kyungsoo pointed at a spot on his sleeve.

"That's blood." 

"Don't touch it." He got up quickly. "I'll go wash up."

He entered the bathroom and had a quick but thorough shower. The light in the small hotel bathroom was uncomfortably stark. Chanyeol looked like a state. He wiped down his arms, eyeing the spatters of tattoos on them with dull eyes before slipping back into his clothes. The air conditioner felt cold on his skin now. He ensured to send a text to the house that Kyungsoo was with him before sliding into bed. Gun within reach, of course.

"You asleep?" He asked. He looked down at his body in the dark. Then he removed his shirt knowing that it would be a bother trying to sleep with it.

"No. I was waiting."

"You want me to take the couch?"

"You better not."

He smiled and slid into the bed slowly. It felt like it was swallowing him in although it was likely to be the tiredness. In a few moments, his body was sinking and so was his mind. Sleep would have certainly captured him had it not for Kyungsoo rolling over and pressing his clothed body against his bare skin. Chanyeol stiffened. And then he exhaled, letting that small shot of heat that bristled against his neck simmer down, before opening his eyes and looking down at the dark cloud of Kyungsoo's hair.

"Fuck," he whispered as he made another observation, "You smell like weed."

" _I'm still high._ " Kyungsoo whispered. He sounded like he was either smiling or crying.

The revelation was unacceptable. "Don't take drugs anymore." Chanyeol ensured that his voice carried his frown. "It's bad for you."

"So is smoking."

"No it's different."

"How?" Kyungsoo looked up. Chanyeol could feel the heat of his body against his strengthen with his stare. "Everything is a poison." The dark couldn't obscure his smirk. "But I'll quit if you do."

A groan was suppressed. Chanyeol had lost count as to how many times he must have tried to quit and then fail. There was just something about being a gangster that made quitting vices unachievable. But his pride was higher than accepting that.

"Fine." So he said so anyway.

"Promise?" Kyungsoo rolled over fully and shifted, leaving some space between them as he offered his fist.

Chanyeol bumped it. Their thumbs touched in a natural motion.

"Promise."

Neither moved to break the touch. Chanyeol stared at their hands and then at him. He exhaled, shivered, and then lifted his hand to brush against the other’s cheek. The skin was almost feverish. He allowed it to rest there even as his heart thumped painfully against his chest.

"What's wrong?"

A heavy pause followed. Chanyeol felt his breaths deepen. 

"This is what I wanted to come home to. Not to what's out there." Kyungsoo spoke like he was dreaming out loud. There was a disconnect in his voice-- that of joy and deep sadness. They sounded like words he would forget in the morning. Wisps of things. 

His voice grew quieter as he moved towards the touch.

"Please tell me that I haven’t lost you.” 

Some part of Chanyeol thought he would say something else. In measured motions, he moved his hand to touch Kyungsoo's hair and stroked it lightly. And then with gentle eyes, he observed the details of Kyungsoo's profile that weren't yet stolen by the darkness of the room. Memories filled his head like old music-- but only for a second, because there were so many memories to revisit at once. Too many. And in these flashes, fixed in the dark grounded by a single touch, he remembered continually believing a singular foolish thought: that no moment in his life could ever move his heart in this way again. 

"Chanyeol?"

_Chanyeol?_

Young Kyungsoo entered Chanyeol's room after persuading his teacher to end class early. He was worried about his playmate and upon seeing him lying in bed with sore lifeless eyes, he knew that it was something only he could ease. Because adults were no good at anything.

The bed was far bigger than him. So with careless intent, the little boy crawled into the bed until he was close enough to the sickly boy. He looked worse up close. Like a ghost. Kyungsoo became very worried and showed it in his face.

 _Appa said you were sick._ He rolled over onto his stomach. _I bought some toys you could borrow._

It was the first time Chanyeol refused to play. He looked in the opposite direction. It took a while for Kyungsoo to realise that he was trying not to cry. He immediately felt more determination than panic when he moved closer and finally grasped the other's attention.

 _Chanyeol?_ He called out again. _I'm sorry if I made you sick_. Kyungsoo hated apologies and buried much of it into the pillow that he squeezed his lips against when he spoke. But when he looked up and saw Chanyeol's wide glossy eyes on him he knew it had worked and said it again. _Sorry._

_You didn't make me sick._

_Then what's wrong?_

Chanyeol hesitated for a long time. Kyungsoo remained close - close enough to touch his hair, which was very long and soft and he soon began to touch. It reminded him of his puppies’ hair which was nice. But it seemed to make his companion comfortable as his breaths slowed down and he was able to speak again.

_Kyungsoo?_

_Hm?_

_I think… m-my Appa was a gangster… and he was a bad… b-bad and… I'm scared… scared… w-what if--_

His breaths were quickening. It was scary because it was preventing him from speaking. Kyungsoo’s own breaths increased as he instinctively moved closer, embracing the taller boy on the bed-- and holding him down because that was all that he knew to do. He closed his eyes and whispered the only phrase that had ever worked on him when he was scared - 

_It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay._

He must have said it twenty times in a row before he felt the tension in Chanyeol's form disappear. Cautiously he looked up. Chanyeol's eyes were full of tears but pinched in the corner of his trembling lips - the start of a smile.

 _Do you want me to get someone?_ Kyungsoo asked to which Chanyeol delivered a weak shake of the head.

_No. I don’t think so._

Kyungsoo’s voice dropped to a whisper again. 

_Did you see something bad before?_

_Yeah… r-really bad._ Chanyeol began to cry. And it wasn't a soft cry. It was the kind of cry that hurt when you did it. The kind of cry that rendered someone breathless. Kyungsoo watched him and then hugged him again - in the way he imagined someone would whenever he cried in the same way. 

_It’s okay._ He said again. _It's okay._

And he said it again. And again. 

_Nobody’s bad here. It’s okay._

_You’re with me now._

"Chanyeol?"

But Chanyeol knew that his heart was always moved - and it would continue to move because it had always been that way. For as long as he could remember. 

He answered with that same weighty feeling in his chest. Breathlessly pleasant and altogether quite terrible. 

“I’m with you. Whenever.” 

He sensed Kyungsoo expel a long deep breath. Instead of softening, Kyungsoo’s voice hardened when he responded. 

“ _Forever_.” 

“Forever?” 

“I’m with you. Forever.” 

Chanyeol smiled in the dark. “Is that what you’d prefer me to say?”

“I think that’s what you meant.” A finger lightly touched his wrist in circles. “It’s what I feel.” He moved closer - but still, Chanyeol’s touch remained, enduring and delicate.

“Forever then.” Chanyeol said. “I’m with you. Forever.” His hand moved away to poke Kyungsoo’s cheek. It was wet now. He brushed it dry with a finger. “Forever and ever?” And again. “Forever and ever and ever? Will that make it stop?” Kyungsoo responded by laughing softly. 

His cheek was poked deep again. 

“I’m with you. Forever.” Kyungsoo echoed as he claimed Chanyeol’s hand and moved it away. He approached with his own intention. The faint light in the distance disappeared for Chanyeol as the other’s figure occupied the space across him. Darkness couldn’t filter his sense of touch however - with the powerful sensations of cold lips briefly brushing against his, touching light and tasting deep, and the faint tug of his left ear proving to be sensationally real. 

The latter tickled and he laughed a little. He couldn’t quite process the first part.

“Good night,” Kyungsoo told him in a low whisper.

Chanyeol playfully pushed him back onto his own side of the bed. And then the processing occurred.

“I can’t believe you… fucking kissed me.”

“Wanted to seal the deal. I’m getting tired of thumbs.”

There was buzz on his lips. A familiar taste. His chest felt like it was hammering hard for escape. “You’re such a pain.”

“I’ve gotten better at it.” Kyungsoo said. He yawned loudly. “I’ve gotten better at a lot of things. Let me show you some time.”

Chanyeol thumped him on the arm. His cheeks were warm anyway.

“Go to sleep. You’re still high.” 

“Maybe.” He yawned again. “Good night.” 

The greeting was reflected a moment later. Chanyeol didn’t stay awake much longer than he needed to but he found that he couldn’t fall asleep until he was sure that Kyungsoo had. He remained there, in the silence and the dark, following the lines in the ceiling that he could see - as he added another moment to his many mosaics of moments. 

It was funny because he could almost hear it from where he was - the parts of his heart being moved around like puzzle pieces, sliding across the surface, bringing mystery after mystery under Kyungsoo’s hand.

Morning brought with it the sight of Kyungsoo's head nestled against his arm. Chanyeol sat up and looked at him for a good minute in the morning light. He looked at peace with the colour in his cheeks. These were the moments where he found himself in disbelief that he was really back. He would’ve thought it was the greatest morning trick in the world if he couldn’t touch him. But he knew he couldn’t dwell because he had other things to do and so he rolled off the bed as carefully as he could before picking up his phone.

Chanyeol scrolled through the messages mindlessly until he was caught by a name. The box was opened and the following set of messages flashed up in bubbles - 

_  
We have replies. The memorial will be held tonight._

_Bring a suit._

And then - a minute or so later:

__

_He’s not going to like it you know. What you’ve done._

_What we’ve done._

_Nothing stays secret forever._

__

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i have added slowburn to this story tags bc it will be devastatingly slow i think loool - the plot is still a developing Thing but there are things being thought off and i hope it's going to be a ride regardless. next up is the memorial, please expect an overabundance of kims. i reiterate that your little author is nothing but a commuting office mouse who likes to type so pls continue to be patient and kind to her (;﹏;) thank you again for all the love so far! i'll do my best to keep going~


	3. Wreath of Hyacinths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _Mostly it is loss which teaches us about the worth of things._ ”  
> ― Arthur Schopenhauer, Parerga and Paralipomena

-

_"Appa. Do you miss Mom a lot?_

It was forecasted to be a beautiful fall. The leaves were still in the midst of changing from deep greens to deeper browns but already the transition was nothing short of breath taking. 

Kyungsoo sat in his Appa's office and stared calmly out the window at the old trees that populated the quad gardens. His father was across him reading papers at his desk. He looked up after hearing the question.

 _"Everyday."_ He answered. _"Why do you ask?"_

 _"No reason."_ Kyungsoo said. 

He looked towards the window again despite knowing he had completely given himself away. It was rare that he would ask about his Mom and her passing. Her death remains a sensitive subject for the Dos despite the decade and a half that had already passed. But that didn’t stop Kyungsoo from thinking about it and imagining what it must have been like.

Her sudden death was a story that would’ve seemed fantastical had it not been his own. His mother’s car being ambushed by vigilantes on her way home and how she had died shielding him from the wave of bullets. Kyungsoo had barely been a year old when he was found underneath his mother’s lifeless body, wailing loudly but unscathed. The embittered war that claimed her life ended a week later- when Do Shiwoo forced it to an abrupt finish with a massacre of the warring parties that ended with the Shins accepting defeat and the acceptance of the formal peace treaty between the families.

His father never spoke about any of it. All the stories that Kyungsoo knew were ones he had heard from others. There were times when he wondered how his Appa would have turned out had his Mom been there - with her lovely laugh and warm personality. She was a little like Kyungsoo, they said. Very stubborn - intolerably proud - but _affectionate_. Loveable. Cute, even. His Appa’s love had been reserved only for her. The woman he had loved since they were children. The woman he had fought his own family to marry. The woman, whose tragic death, he would decimate whole families for.

 _"Today is mother’s day._ "His Appa said suddenly. _"Of course you’d think of her."_

Kyungsoo looked back and nodded. 

_"Let’s eat together tonight. How about that?"_

The offer thrilled Kyungsoo. He nodded quickly, smiling instantly, all flashes of sadness suddenly going away. He couldn’t even remember the last time his Appa had taken him out for a meal. 

His Appa smiled back. _"This reminds me."_ He said, _"Did I ever share with you the song we had played at our wedding? It was our favourite. I found a copy of it when I was cleaning out."_

It was a vinyl buried under his Appa’s mass of papers on his desk. The record was set up on the player before his Appa returned to his seat with a newly lit cigarette stuck between his lips. His eyes didn’t leave his reading as the catchy song crooned through the room but Kyungsoo noted the calmness in his eyes. It was the signature of someone lost in a daydream or a needed trip to the past. 

Without consciously realising, Kyungsoo closed his eyes as the music continued and rightly thought of his Mom. Of a time when he’d been part of a family. Of a beautiful fall. 

For a moment he was able to bury the nightmares of her passing - and found solace instead in the thoughts of the short time they were blessed with to spend together.

The task was infinitely harder than he thought. Kyungsoo stood in his father’s office gathering some belongings to offer at the memorial. He hovered over the desk, arms folded over his chest, looking around at each element of the familiar place and doing his best to suppress the thought of how his father’s brutal murder had happened here.

It was really surreal. How people could disappear in an instant but everything else - and everyone else - gets left behind visibly untouched. The scars all fester underneath though. Much like the faded blood stains that must have been missed when they had cleaned the cedar desk. Just because you couldn’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.

Two gentle knocks at the door disturbed him. It was Chanyeol in a matching black funeral suit. They looked just as miserable as each other.

“I thought I’d check on you.” Chanyeol said. “Are you almost ready to go?”

“Almost.” Kyungsoo answered absently. “I’m just picking up some cufflinks.”

He looked down at the cufflinks. They were right next to his father’s favourite gin - still half-full - and his ashtray. There were also the large bowl of mint sweets that he liked.

“Do you remember when we used to play games on who can steal the most of these?” Kyungsoo smiled, gesturing to the sweets. “And then one time he got really angry because we had basically emptied it.”

“You always won those games.” Chanyeol said as he approached him. “I was too scared of him.”

Kyungsoo smiled. 

“He didn’t scare me. He... made me angry but he never scared me.” 

Chanyeol’s head was bowed to the floor low when Kyungsoo looked at him again. It was only now that it really dawned on him that he wouldn’t be the only one grieving today.

“Chanyeol.” He whispered. Their foreheads brushed against each other as he placed a hand around the back of the other’s neck - an almost subconscious touch. 

Chanyeol’s response also felt innate. In the way that he visibly relaxed and let go.

“I just--” His strained voice spoke of a deep pain. It was a wonder to think how long he must have held it in. “I feel like I _failed_ \-- if I had been here and -- then -- maybe this wouldn’t -- I think -- _Fuck_ \--”

Chanyeol hadn’t been there that night. He had been halfway up a mountain on a rare night off. There was no doubt that had he been present, Do Shiwoo’s murderer would have faced a greater challenge than he would’ve otherwise. But Kyungsoo knew that this was the nature of misfortune - it will strike anybody and without remorse.

“Nobody blames you. I certainly don’t.” Kyungsoo said.

“I know… but it still fucking sucks. This whole thing. Sucks.”

A moment passed and Chanyeol looked up at him with bloodshot eyes full of tears. Kyungsoo recalled that the last time he had looked this way was when he had first picked up the dogs and he ended up having a mild allergic reaction. It was a strange time to have such a displaced thought. Kyungsoo suddenly felt horrible when he _laughed_. The reaction was completely out of nowhere and yet he found that he couldn’t stop as tears began to pour from how much he was laughing.

“What!” Chanyeol cried out as he quickly wiped his face with his hands. “What’s funny!”

“N-Nothing!” Kyungsoo shook his head.

His shoulder was pushed.

“Kyungsoo-- you fucking asshole.”

The words earned Chanyeol a hard thump against the shoulder in return. He just repeated them. 

It took another few minutes before Kyungsoo calmed and he was able to look at Chanyeol again. If before they had looked as miserable as each other, now they looked as equally _pathetic_. Kyungsoo was sure that his Appa would’ve just laughed at the sight if he was watching over them. In fact he would probably just knock their heads together like he used to do as punishment when they were kids.

“You look horrible.” Chanyeol told him, still sniffing. “Your nose is full of snot.”

“You’re the one who cried first.” Kyungsoo returned. “Fucking baby.”

“Say that again. You’re finished.”

Kyungsoo’s face was unmoving as he mouthed it.

_Fucking baby._

Chanyeol raised a fist. It was playful. They laughed at each other almost at the same time which drained the room of any tension. Kyungsoo took two pieces of candy from the jar and threw one to Chanyeol who caught it perfectly. They ate it in silence. At some point, Chanyeol offered Kyungsoo a handkerchief to blow his nose into and they continued in silence, resting on the edge of the desk, with Chanyeol’s head on his shoulder.

“I quit smoking this morning.” Chanyeol murmured. “I wished I quit tomorrow instead.”

“Really? You quit?” 

Chanyeol rolled up his shirt sleeve and showed off the patches on his upper arm. Kyungsoo counted two nicotine patches and two new tattoos he couldn’t quite make out from his angle of vision.

“Maybe you should have quit tomorrow,” Kyungsoo began. “You know what bothers me? How I might end up shaking the hand of the murderer today.”

“That’s true,” was the other’s reply. “But if you need me, I won’t be far.” 

Kyungsoo pressed his tongue into his cheek as he smirked.

"Ever heard of a gangster who says shit like that?" he teased.

It satisfied him somewhat. The deep look of embarrassment that crossed Chanyeol’s perfect face as he scrunched his nose.

"You're the one who can't sleep on your own so don’t fucking start with me.” Chanyeol muttered. “If anything, _you’re_ the baby.”

Kyungsoo shrugged his shoulders and kept on sucking his candy until it was soft enough to bite. The crisp shell breaking under the pressure of his molars preluded Chanyeol breaking the silence with a strained sigh. 

"I don't mean it, Kyungsoo. I just need a cigarette." He said in a tone that was very apologetic even if it didn’t seem it. 

He was comfortably ignored until a heartbeat later when Kyungsoo felt a familiar finger poking his right cheek.

“I hate it when you do that,” he said as he looked at him. 

“No you don’t,” was Chanyeol’s contention as he grinned, his eyes all shiny from catching the glimmers of sunlight in the room. 

“Well then… I hate you.”

Chanyeol’s smile remained, totally unfettered. 

“No you don’t.” 

Their discussion was cut short by two loud raps against the door. Changnam’s figure, attired in black, was by the door. His expression was completely unmoved by the sight in front of him. It was unclear to Kyungsoo how long he had been standing there but judging from that lazy frown on his face it was probably long _enough_.

“The car’s here.” He said in that irritating monotonous voice Kyungsoo had come to detest. “Kyungsoo you’ll be riding with us. Chanyeol you’ll be with the rest--”

“No...” Kyungsoo interrupted quickly as he passed the man beside him a stare. “I’m taking Chanyeol’s car with him. So… go ahead of us.”

In the corner of Changnam’s face, a shift of expression materialised - something displeasing which Kyungsoo claimed as a victory. 

“Fine.” Changnam said, just as coldly as his greeting. “Just turn up on time. People are waiting on you.”

He left the room and said nothing else. Kyungsoo waited until he heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs before locking his gaze with Chanyeol’s and murmuring,

“Stay close.” And then he exhaled as he grabbed Chanyeol’s thumb and pressed it against his, “Promise?”

Chanyeol pouted his lips jokingly to imitate a kiss. It was certainly an echo of the previous night’s - 

“Oh.” The gangster frowned when he noted the other’s lack of a reaction. “You don’t remember, do you?” 

Kyungsoo shook his head. “No…” He lied.

“Oh.” Chanyeol shrugged. He smiled as he pressed his thumb against Kyungsoo’s and nodded. “Guess you were too drunk last night.”

The memorial for Do Shiwoo was held at a function space owned by the Do family. It was a large jazz bar on most evenings - open to all with fairly priced liquor, trendy private booths and live music. And when it wasn't, it was the chosen space to hold funerals, weddings, baptisms and the lot. Unsurprisingly, the latter was reserved only for the criminal elite - largely because the price for the package would involve the full security backing of the Do family.

Proudly known as the largest and most formidable in their city - prior to Shiwoo’s death of course.

As horrible as he felt about the whole thing, Kyungsoo had to compliment the efforts of the planning company. The function room was transformed beautifully - with his father's large portrait at the top, surrounded by many beautiful floral displays from shrubs to fully grown topiaries. Beneath those specific centrepieces were the many funeral wreaths offered by the mourners. And there were so many that Kyungsoo was momentarily awed by it. It was easy to forget for a second that this wasn't a funeral for a rockstar. 

Much of it was just superficial offerings of course but Kyungsoo found that he appreciated it regardless. His Appa had always liked plants so much. It was impossible to look at everything and not think of how much it would’ve pleased him.

Whilst the time for paying tribute was reserved for later, Kyungsoo found that many mourners found it impossible to keep away. He was kissed on the cheek by many mothers and aunts - shook the hands of many of his father's old associates - and was comforted by old acquaintances that had travelled distances just to be there. 

There was nothing quite like a death to unite a community, Kyungsoo thought sadly, as he glanced at his father's portrait and thought whether like the flowers he would've equally appreciated the fanfare. Do Shiwoo had always carried himself as such a quiet and isolated man. In fact it was said that the only time he ever used this function room for himself was to host Kyungsoo's 1st birthday. The last time that the community would ever see Shiwoo’s wife and son in the same room. 

"Kyungsoo?"

At Baekhyun's familiar call, Kyungsoo turned and found himself surrounded by the Byun family. His grandfather, Byun Baekmin, was the first to step across and offer his condolences. His face, usually lined and cheerful, was solemn and hard as he embraced Kyungsoo and gave him a couple of tough pats on the back.

Baekhyun's mother and his two sisters were next. They were very similar to Baekhyun in that they were very pretty and warm. But he knew that they were kept a distance from this life. It was Jaebeom, his older brother, that had the most distinct and loudest greeting. He shook Kyungsoo's hand, large lips shaped into a hefty frown. 

"Nobody will get away with this." He huffed. "You can be sure of that."

Jaebeom had always scared him. As children, he had physically towered over him and Baekhyun in a way that was almost terrifying. Hearing those words fall from his lips reminded Kyungsoo of that same fear. Short-lived and animated. The truth was that the murderer had already gotten away with it and no amount of Jaebeom’s sweet nothings would erase the fact that nothing had been done since Kyungsoo had returned. It didn’t mean that nothing could be done - it just meant that Kyungsoo couldn’t be reassured by words alone anymore. 

"And you." Jaebeom glared at his younger brother. "You haven't offered Kyungsoo a service or anything, have ya? Instead you take him to a fucking… night club?"

"Not just any club. _Our_ night club.” Baekhyun said with a pout. "And I’ve tried to help. I… I even asked him to marry me so that we can make sure our territories are ours. Didn’t I Kyungsoo-yah?”

Jaebeom went red-faced. There was nobody in the world with a lower tolerance for Baekhyun’s antics than his older brother.

"Fucking idiot--” he cursed as he gave Baekhyun a quick whack to the head, “Sorry Kyungsoo. For him. Jesus. Can’t you see where we are? Does it look like a place for jokes?”

“Shut up. You’re the one making a scene!” Baekhyun scowled.

“Boys.” Their mother looked visibly irritated as she pushed between them. 

A little embarrassed to be in the way, Kyungsoo looked around and spotted the elderly Baekmin shuffling towards the altar of flowers and looking towards the portrait. He excused himself from the group and approached him. Instead of speaking to, he was spoken to. Baekmin’s voice was weary but strict as he pointed a shrivelled finger at the row of wreaths.

“Pay attention to those who offer tribute and those who don’t.” He spoke as if cautioning. “In this city, we must only show respect to those who show respect for us.” 

“I understand.” Kyungsoo affirmed.

Baekmin looked at him and nodded his head slowly. “The Shins never forgave.” His eyes narrowed darkly until they appeared almost black. “They have no respect.”

Others were present too. Baekhyun acted as a buffer for the conversations as they came to comfort Kyungsoo. Chanyeol was also not far behind. The tall young man stood by the doorway, and left his post only on the occasion that he was called away to address something or speak to Kyungsoo’s uncles. It was important for everyone to play their role here. Tempting as it was to see this all as an event to mourn a loss, there was little doubt to both guests and hosts that this memorial served as a call to arms. A time to evaluate where people would stand once the first shot was fired.

"You've grown." 

And yet, Kyungsoo would say that it didn't have to be serious all of the time. There were people he was genuinely excited to see again like the young Oh Sehun. The cherub of the Oh Family who are better known as executives of the city's biggest construction company. He was their only son and grew up pampered as such. Kyungsoo knew him well from the play dates they shared when he was little and whilst he adored him Sehun, the younger man had always been visibly fonder of Chanyeol. He idolised him - a fact which Chanyeol denied furiously even though they continued to play on the same basketball team together. 

These childish observations seemed far away now. In his dark funeral suit, Sehun received the words with a polite smile and in exchange gave Kyungsoo an envelope. It was crisp and hard in his hand and Kyungsoo would later find out that the envelope contained an obscene amount of money in a cheque. At the time he recalled smiling it off, inviting Sehun to make himself at home - but later on when he had the strength to reflect on the actions of those who attended, he realised that everything from the simple kisses on cheeks to the envelopes were communal signs of loyalty. 

When the Kims entered the memorial, it was his oldest uncle Sangchul who was by Kyungsoo’s side. He was introduced to each in turn - in age order coincidentally. 

The oldest grandson was Kim Minseok. What initially struck Kyungsoo about him was the strictness of his posture and form. The way he held himself - from his perfectly aligned tie to the strength of his handshake. He spoke with such maturity too. He delivered his greeting in a calm and well-mannered way - regal almost. Not at all like the Kims that Kyungsoo knew. The gamblers and alcoholics in the market that he was kept away from when he was a child.

Kim Junmyeon was very different from his brother. Where Minseok was charming and soft-spoken in his approach, his younger sibling was stricter and came off colder. He was also well-mannered and absent of that roguish touch that characterised his relatives but Kyungsoo sensed that his Appa would’ve liked Junmyeon much less. 

The final Kim was the tallest and had long caught Kyungsoo’s eye before he had even joined the queue for handshakes. They did it anyway. For show. Although they had met already - 

"Kim Jongin."

"Do Kyungsoo."

Under very different circumstances.

His eyes were always the most striking feature, Kyungsoo noted, as he held his gaze and heard Sangchul’s dull commentary beside him. He didn’t need it. They had met before. Shibuya. A quarter to midnight in the red-light district. It was deep into spring yet he still remembered how cold the bathroom tiles had felt when he told a groaning Kim Jongin that if he tried anything funny that he would end up with a limb missing. _I only fuck locals,_ Kyungsoo had hissed in his ear as the other hovered over him until his back was against the wall. 

_Did you really think you’d be the one doing the fucking?_ was Jongin’s killer line before he was shoved hard in the chest and left alone as Kyungsoo ran out of the club in a huff.

There would be none of that fun now. They shook hands and said nothing else as Sangchul informed them of their itinerary for the evening and where the valet would be should they want to collect their vehicles. Jongin kept looking at him - and Kyungsoo entertained his attention if only to understand what his possible intentions were.

That was all it had been. They had met at a local club in Shibuya and Jongin had asked for a good time. He had declined because he’d caught that they were from the same country and now they were meeting again in his father’s funeral. This was exactly how he explained it to Chanyeol after it came up in conversation as they found themselves sat across each other on a round table playing blackjack.

“Why are you even asking?” Kyungsoo said. He looked around at the mass of people around them. The vast majority were also gambling and taking advantage of the free-flowing bar. 

“Nothing,” was the answer as Chanyeol placed his cards down and signalled at their dealer, “I’ve just noticed the way he’s looking at you that’s all. So I wanted to know what was what.”

He could have rolled his eyes and really riled him up. But instead Kyungsoo smiled.

“Oh?” he began, voice intentionally curious. “How is he looking at me exactly? Comfortingly? Maybe… he can see how sad I feel because my Appa’s dead and he wants to comfort me.”

Chanyeol scoffed. “Sure.”

The conversation was stunted there as the music began to play after some fiddling by Sangchul of the speaker system. It was instrumental and bland and reminiscent of dated elevator music. Whilst the sound of the room faded initially, the swelling sound of the overlapping conversations soon overwhelmed the repetitive hum of the speakers. Kyungsoo listened to everything absently as he stared at the doorway that led to the main memorial room.

“Hey.” Chanyeol was leaning across his end of the table. “It’s your go.” 

Kyungsoo held up his cards and sent them across in defeat. He stood up and returned to the room where the wreaths were set up. He felt compelled to continually check on who had left tributes, particularly after Byun Baekmin’s words. A few extra wreaths had arrived since he last checked - one of which was of particular importance. 

It was a lovely wreath composed of large vibrant purple flowers and golden vines. Kyungsoo stared at it and then at the family stamp on the card underneath. 

_Shin._

“Hyacinths.” He identified them as something his own father had kept at their home. He looked back at Chanyeol who had followed him from the table. “Aren’t they nice.”

The gangster was visibly aggrieved. There was a tightness in his expression that Kyungsoo aimed to soothe with the smile that he sent. “They’re fresh,” he murmured, “Probably from Shin Kyuhyun’s personal collection. He likes flowers too. Appa… he said that they would always exchange some during the annual committees. He’d keep them at the house too. He didn’t want to offend him.”

Chanyeol’s face was stoic. “You don’t have to keep them here if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Kyungsoo laughed. “Appa liked hyacinths. It’s okay.”

He pulled the wreath away from the row. The sweet smell of the hyacinths hit his nose as he stepped back and looked at the card that contained the family stamp. There was nothing else on it. Not a message. Not even an apology for their non-attendance.

“It was them.” Chanyeol was by his side now. His voice was dropped to a whisper but Kyungsoo felt the punch of every word. “They ordered the hit. Everybody agrees.”

“Hmm. I heard.” It was often the whisper that followed the sad murmur of condolence. _The Shins, Kyungsoo. It was them--_

The truth didn’t matter so much as a consensus in their circles. Even if it wasn’t the Shins, Kyungsoo - it definitely wasn’t me. This was what they wanted him to hear because they couldn’t yet trust him to figure it out for himself.

Kyungsoo plucked a flower from the wreath and inspected it. His dark eyes were unmoving as he curiously crushed its petals between his fingertips. He wondered if his hands would smell of hyacinths later. Admittedly they didn’t smell as nice as he first thought. 

“So what do you want to do about it?” Chanyeol’s voice had an edge to it. A little dark; a little impatient.

“Later,” Kyungsoo responded calmly. “Tonight, we honour Appa.” He smiled as he tucked another flower into his pocket and returned the wreath. “I have a speech to make don’t I?” 

The speech was delivered an hour later when most of the guests were on their fourth bottle of liquor and the music had improved after the guests complained. There were more people now, with a lot of the stragglers finally showing their face after the work day ended. Kyungsoo saw a lot of new people when he took the platform. Even those who owed money to his father didn’t dare shame themselves by skipping the event. There were a few cops too - as was customary in these large scale mob events, but his uncles were pleased to accompany them and keep them distant.

He took the microphone and stood at the spot where he knew he would be able to see Chanyeol clearly.

The gangster was sat on top of an empty table at the back of the room next to some people he knew. Kyungsoo couldn’t see him very well but sent him a smile anyway before the volume of the music was lowered and he took his opportunity to speak to the room of his community for the first time - alone. 

As Do Shiwoo’s only son and successor.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming to honour my father. For him, I’d like to say a few words.” His voice was shaky at first. But it picked up confidence after he spotted Baekhyun returning to the room after a toilet break and quickly taking the seat by the piano in a panic. He sent Kyungsoo an apologetic smile with a thumbs up. “The Do Shiwoo we all knew was a man of strength and an advocate for good relations. But more than that, my father was an honourable man. He acted with an understanding that his actions represented those of his name, his family and his company. So he did what he needed to do with honour and with respect. This is how I want you to remember him. And this is what I will also take forwards.” 

“But know,” Kyungsoo continued as he scanned the rows of faces that sat across him with their piercing unfamiliar gazes. “Know that my father never allowed anyone to disrespect him, his name, his family and his company. And that is also something I will uphold and take forwards.” 

Then he lifted the shot-glass full of gin - from his father’s favourite bottle - into the air and smiled broadly.

“To Do Shiwoo.” 

The room was obedient. The toast was raised in unison - “ _To Do Shiwoo_ ” - and all the heavy tension faded. Particularly at the sight of Kyungsoo downing the whole shot glass and spluttering rather comically at the burn of the liquid. 

Loud incoherent murmurs of thanks and agreement met Kyungsoo as he waved to the guests and invited them to continue their night in peace. What he wouldn’t expect however was Baekhyun’s voice rising above the noise as he used the mic and loudly stated,

“Any takers for a live song?”

It had been said as a joke - it must have been - but inevitably the energy in the room changed and soared. If there was anything that their community found more enjoyable than gambling and drinking, it was _singing_. Kyungsoo froze on the stage as he locked eyes with Baekhyun who enthusiastically gestured for him to stay on. He shouldn’t have complied so easily because before he knew it, the calls from the guests were for him to _perform_. 

“Kyungsoo- you sing!”

“Sing, sing sing!”

“Please sing!”

Glasses were raised in the air again. It seemed that everyone’s memories were getting knocked of the many parties that Kyungsoo had attended where he’d take the floor with Baekhyun and they would perform together in the hopes of collecting a few notes from generous patrons to buy alcohol with later. Of course, they had been much younger then and it might have appeared as cute as the time. Now Kyungsoo was principally mortified - and he could’ve said - no, _should’ve_ said no - but nobody else around him was moving and all he could see from where he was were the eager smiles from those across him. 

Baekhyun began to play a tune on the piano. Important and familiar: one, for how they used to perform in their funny choruses together and two, for the fact that it had been one of his Appa’s favourites.

_Did I ever share with you the song we had played at our wedding? It was our favourite._

His chest overflowed with an undeniable warmth at the memory. It poured out of him as he smiled, sadly and lovingly, and loosened his tie to a refrain of excited voices and clinks of glasses.

“Uh, alright. Just one. Since… Appa would’ve liked this one.”

“Hooray! What a sport!” Baekhyun said into the microphone. No doubt his brother would’ve groaned out loud somewhere in the crowd.

Nothing much really lingered in Kyungsoo’s mind when he fully decided to do it. _Just once, for Appa_. He thought to himself as he gave Baekhyun a signal to repeat the first stanza and returned to the centre of the platform. 

Chanyeol was up on his feet now. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were wide. Kyungsoo smiled at him as he moved the microphone closer to his lips and sang the first line sweetly,

“ _You're just too good to be true  
I can't take my eyes off you…”_

The room filled with surprised but appreciative applause. Kyungsoo flushed red but continued to sing, allowing his gaze to move from Chanyeol - to Baekhyun - to the room - and finally - 

To Kim Jongin. With a cigarette between his grinning lips, the youngest Kim was stood up - noticeably the only one in his table - watching intently. 

“ _Oh pretty baby, don't bring me down I pray  
Oh pretty baby, now that I've found you  
Stay…_”

Their gazes met. A shiver of something teased the length of Kyungsoo’s spine as he watched Jongin raise his glass in a private unashamed greeting. 

The memorial was scheduled to continue until sunrise. Kyungsoo had no plans to stay until then. At two in the morning, he returned to his family home with droopy eyes from a mix of tiredness and light drunkenness. He had forgotten how hard the liquor of choice was in this city. He had grown accustomed to the watered down shots of the Japanese club scene. 

Chanyeol was with him too. He had come home at the same time but had drank much less. It was the stickiness of the summer heat that had claimed him on the drive back. He was quick to shed as much of his nicely pressed suit. The gel in his hair had lost all effect too, leaving his locks floppy and thick. Expressionless, Kyungsoo looked at the taller man as he sat on his bed: shirtless, flushed and yawning. 

“Let’s shower. Then we can talk.” He offered.

A towel was thrown the gangster’s way. “Together?” Chanyeol asked. 

“Sure.” Kyungsoo was already in his ensuite with the water on. “Your call.”

The door to his ensuite was never opened. Chanyeol chose to use the first floor bathroom. When they sat together again, it was in the living room which was generously sized with a large television, and a wall of old family heirlooms as its key fixtures. Altogether, it was an ordinary family room but to Kyungsoo, who was now faced with the reality that he would live within its walls alone, it truly felt less than. His family was gone - and without a family, the fixtures were just fixtures, no matter how special they may have seemed at one time.

"I thought about what to do next." Kyungsoo said. 

Chanyeol was sat with fingers interlocked on the opposing end of the leather couch. He looked more exhausted now than before his shower.

"Okay.” Chanyeol’s voice was thin but his eyes appeared more alert. “What do you want?” 

Kyungsoo took out the hyacinth from his robe pocket. He had kept it on his side all night.

"I think we need to even the score." He murmured. He lifted the purple flower to the light - it had hideously wilted and lost its colour. "But I don't want any doubt that the message came from me."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"I should go then.”

"Hm?” Kyungsoo raised an eyebrow. “Not you."

Chanyeol expressed a small laugh. "Kyungsoo. It _has_ to be me."

This was town-work. Town work wasn’t for kids. It wasn’t for amateurs. It was for the big boys. Those were his Appa’s unchangeable guidelines. Kyungsoo looked at his companion with firm eyes as he lowered his hands to his front.

"You were just a guard when I left." He said.

The faintest smile tugged at Chanyeol’s lips. "Who was I supposed to guard when you left?"

His tone seemed strained. Like he didn’t want to accuse Kyungsoo even though they both knew exactly where the blame should lie. 

Kyungsoo placed a hand on his chest as an unpleasant weight stirred within it. It took him a second to notice that Chanyeol was watching him. They didn’t speak again until a few heartbeats later when the taller abandoned his seat and took the spot right beside him. 

"Look,” he said, “By the end, I was the only person that Uncle trusted… and honestly, he was the only one that I trusted. If we want this done properly _it has to be me_. Understand?" A short pause ensued. Chanyeol’s large dark eyes looked down at his lips in the moment. 

Kyungsoo consciously wet them. 

“There’s so much that I haven’t been told.” He gazed at the soft curve of Chanyeol’s jaw. His fingers followed as it tracked the shape. Beneath the touches, Chanyeol consciously swallowed. “Don’t get hurt. And be here in the morning?”

“Here?” 

“I’ll probably be in bed. I’ll make room for you.” Kyungsoo smiled before taking Chanyeol’s cold hand into his and placing the wilted flower in the centre of his palm. “I’m back now… permanently. So I think you should consider taking your old job back.”

The other locked his palm into a fist and offered him a smile. 

“I’m quite good at this new job too.” He said.

The thought worsened the hurt in Kyungsoo’s chest. His expression faltered as he shook all the creeping images out of his mind and responded,

“But you were the best in your old one, Chanyeol.” 

“Yeah, but. You don’t need a guard like me anymore.” 

Kyungsoo smiled sadly. 

“Is that all you were?” he asked, genuinely curious - “Just a guard?”

Chanyeol didn’t answer. Instead he sunk into his chair, balled fists locking hard as he crossed his arms over his chest.

The inevitable cancellation of their family dinner shouldn’t have shocked Kyungsoo but it still did. His Appa cancelling their Mother’s Day dinner for some work thing. This sort of thing happened all the time so he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

But, as they always were, his hopes were _up_ so getting that cancellation was nothing short of crushing. It didn’t help that the news was revealed to him by his Uncle Dongsuk - who was always void of human emotion and suggested that he just ordered take-away if he was going to be that pathetic about it.

Kyungsoo wanted to burst into tears there and then. Fortunately he managed to hold it in until he found himself at a quiet part of the quad gardens where he could mope in peace. It was there, sat atop a rock, that he finally allowed himself to cry. He only wanted to allow it for a minute or two so he didn’t have to feel bad the whole night. But a long time passed before he was able to stop - and in truth, he only really did so because he sensed someone stand in front of him.

He looked up with his lips still wobbling. 

It was Chanyeol back from basketball. He towered over him in his basketball gear with a ball tucked between his arm and hip.

“ _If you laugh_ ,” Kyungsoo sniffed as he struggled to look at the other’s face with all the tears weighing on his aching eyes. “ _I’ll punch you in the gut_.”

It couldn’t have sounded very threatening. There was the fleeting sound of a laugh but what Kyungsoo heard said in a much louder voice was, 

_“Have you had dinner yet?”_

Kyungsoo shook his head.

A plastic bag touched his face. _”We can have some instant ramen.”_

_“I don't want it.”_

_“Got seafood flavour.”_

It was Kyungsoo’s favourite. _“For me?”_

 _“No. By accident.”_ Kyungsoo shoved his knees and got a laugh in return. _“For fuck’s sake, just hurry up. I’ll make it.”_

They sat together in the living room and watched a Hollywood movie halfway from its start. The house finally got cable earlier in the month and so this tended to be how the seniors of the family found their most junior members. Kyungsoo loved movies and whilst Chanyeol was less enthusiastic, he certainly ended up sitting through a fair few because of Kyungsoo. 

The movie was fun and interesting but it wasn’t really enough to distract Kyungsoo from how upset the whole thing had made him. Chanyeol's eyes were growing heavy but it also wasn’t enough to distract him from seeing the gloom on Kyungsoo’s expression. 

“ _What changed_?” He asked as he adjusted his spot on the soft heated floor. “ _It's not the first time he's bailed on you… so spit it out._ ”

 _“Nothing…”_ Kyungsoo didn’t like lying to Chanyeol but he sensed that it was all too raw to just start poking himself about again, “ _I just didn't want to be alone today.”_

Chanyeol yawned loudly.

“ _So I guess I don't exist then? Jeez._ ”

This stole a laugh from Kyungsoo - and with that, the truth. He shared how today was Mother’s Day - and how for the first time he felt like his Appa wanted to celebrate the day with him. It was stupid, yes, but it was an important day to him because even though his Mom was dead - it didn’t take away the fact that he had one. It was stupid - all of it was - but he was still deeply disappointed that his father couldn’t follow through on his promise.

The admission left his chest with a hollow ache. As the film credits rolled, Kyungsoo took the opportunity to exploit the sudden dimness in the room to place his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. He smelled of that strong deodorant he always used. A mix of citrus and wood. It was a comforting scent now.

“ _Chanyeol… can you stay here until I fall asleep? I feel like my heart is so heavy that I won't be able to sleep alone and I have class tomorrow.”_

Even if Kyungsoo tried his luck, it never got very far with Chanyeol. Especially when it was to do with class which Chanyeol was finally freed from after recently turning eighteen. 

_“Jeez. You're such a fucking baby, Kyungsoo,”_ was the merciless return as his head was pushed away. 

Normally it was fine - but today, when he already felt like crap - being made to feel like an even bigger pile of crap was nowhere near fine. But still he said it. “ _Fine.”_ He huffed, trying to erase the plea in his voice as he turned away from him, “ _Go then._ ”

“ _Fine_.”

The hollow ache in his chest tightened. Kyungsoo was about to bury his face into the sofa cushion when he felt Chanyeol’s head press back against his shoulder. The scent of the deodorant hit him square in the nose, sending his pulse soaring. 

_“Gotcha. I'm joking. ‘Kay? It’s a joke._ ” Chanyeol’s tone was casual and soft as he stretched long legs outwards. _“Just don't fucking start crying again.”_

He didn't move away again because he never did. Kyungsoo watched, relieved not to be left alone, as Chanyeol turned up the volume on the television. The next movie began to play and before long Kyungsoo was distracted completely as he attempted to explain the plot of the movie to a very sleepy Chanyeol. 

At some point in the middle of their third movie, the pair fell asleep.

It was Kyungsoo who woke up first. He wasn’t normally a light sleeper but having slept in his own bed since forever, he knew when he was in an unfamiliar place. With eyes half-closed, he attempted a stretch only to freeze at the sensation of a lump of weight across him. He looked up and was met with the sight of a dozing Chanyeol, head curved, face and hair catching the glimmers of early sunshine. 

The sight shouldn’t have taken him by surprise because they had already slept by each other so many times. On long car trips. Short car trips. Naps. Anything and anywhere because they had grown up with each other side-by-side like this. Kyungsoo couldn’t even say that he had never seen him up close like this because they had also shared beds on occasion. 

But something had acutely changed for Kyungsoo this time. Because over those countless trips, where they’d sleep and wake up to each other side-by-side, Kyungsoo was sure that it hadn’t crossed his mind just how handsome Chanyeol’s face actually was. How soft his hair looked. How nice he smelled. How charming the crinkle at the corner of his eyes were. How his lightly-parted lips were so _kissab--_

A surge of hot heat, like a burning pair of hands, reached his cheeks and _slapped_ them. Panicked, Kyungsoo blinked himself awake. His bleary morning thoughts should’ve gone away then instead they stayed and taunted him as Chanyeol’s image grew sharper and his mind saturated with more observations. Most of them about Chanyeol’s lips. Most of them not fit for the morning. 

_Idiot. Don't-_

He shut his eyes tight as he scolded himself.

_Don't. You. Fucking. Dare._

In that moment, Kyungsoo took the deepest inhale and exhale of breath, reclaiming an inner calmness. But then, when he opened his eyes again and opened them to the sight of Chanyeol’s open eyes. Those eyes. Those wonderful large warm eyes. 

His inner calmness fell face-first as his heartbeat soared high - repeating a pattern of pace that Kyungsoo was sure had already been there for a long time but he’d never noticed before.

“ _Morning._ ” Chanyeol greeted, shifting down until they were face-to-face. “ _You up?_ ”

A pattern of pace he was sure he wouldn’t forget again. 

A pattern that would repeat now, as familiar as a favourite song, when Kyungsoo woke up the next morning and recognised a sleeping Chanyeol sleeping beside him on his bed.

The gangster was asleep on his stomach, with his face turned towards him. The curtains were largely drawn, leaving the room in a bleary dim, but even in pure darkness Kyungsoo was sure that he would know it was him. 

He was dressed in a dark polo and sweats. It was almost like had rolled into the bed from wherever it was that he’d ended up. 

In one gentle action, Kyungsoo rolled over fully to his side and followed his gaze as it scanned the larger man’s body thoughtfully. His eyes fixated tight on the sleeve of tattoos that painted Chanyeol’s right arm. Some were familiar - the wolf symbol for their city, the moon and stars, the geometric circles _because they were cool on the poster_ \- but not all. 

There was one beautiful tattoo that spanned his lower arm; that of a sharp bloody dagger wrapped around the chambers of the human heart.

It was an image he must have sketched countless times as a boy. An image so intensely burned in the back of his mind because it was the choice tattoo for his father’s most trusted inner circle. As a clueless child, seeing that tattoo on someone meant that he was in safe hands - even if he didn’t know where those hands had been or what they had done.

A little shocked, Kyungsoo lifted his own fingers to his lips before laying his hand close to where Chanyeol’s fingers were splayed. 

He exhaled and stretched his fingers, allowing them to touch. 

The harrowing thought of what the morning would bring crossed his mind and then faded as Chanyeol’s fingers moved back and brushed against his. Soft meeting rough.

Always crossing; always entangling. Always apart.

The morning news finally came to Kyungsoo. It arrived in a bemused phone call by Baekhyun. He was sat at his dining table, having just finished preparing breakfast for himself and Chanyeol. 

“What?” His fingers tightened around his fork consciously. “What happened?”

Baekhyun’s voice was echoing. He must have been in a gym.

_“I said… Shin Kyuhyun’s market base was ambushed last night. Four of his men were killed. I don’t know who yet - but from what I heard, all four were found tied up, necks slashed open and…”_

Something shifted in Baekhyun’s voice as he pressed on.

“ _Their throats stuffed full of hyacinths.”_

Kyungsoo exhaled as the phone line stuttered. 

“Hyacinths?” he asked.

 _“Yes. Flowers._ ” Baekhyun paused. It was odd hearing his voice without even the trickle of laughter with it. “ _Grandpa is sending along a car this morning. He says--”_

Outside, the sound of cars pulling into the driveway followed by the more proximate noise of the front door opening and closing.

“ _Whatever you need from us. We will answer for. I guess what he’s really saying is that it’s really starting… all of it. Jaebeom is already doing rounds. I'm going to follow him soon. I thought I was ready for it but I don’t think I am. How about you? How do you feel, love?”_

Chanyeol stood at the kitchen doorway. Gone was the morning daze in his eyes. Instead they were both wide and dark - matched with slightly parted lips like he’d whispered something Kyungsoo had missed.

“ _Kyungsoo?_ ”

“Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol’s voice was more serious. “Your uncles are here.”

The phone call was ended with a stray finger. Kyungsoo decided he would respond to Baekhyun later because planning all of that could wait. On the other hand, this absolutely couldn't. With careful pace, he lowered the object to the table before approaching the gangster at the edge of the room.

“Where did you get the flowers?” He asked him.

Chanyeol blinked, evidently surprised, before responding.

“The wreath.” He said. “I told you. I didn’t want it at the memorial.”

Slowly, a smile tugged at the edges of Kyungsoo’s lips - which pulled and broadened and _opened_ as he carefully placed a hand on Chanyeol’s chest. His fingers stretched, innocent, equally crinkling and smoothing the cotton. 

“Leave my uncles to me.” Beneath his fingertips, he sensed the rapid thump of Chanyeol’s heartbeat. “You did well, Chanyeol.” He waited until the other's eyes were on his lips. "Really well."

For their lips to meet again, all it would take was another set of stolen inches, a tiny tilt of his head and the thrill of slipping time as he pressed them together. Chanyeol kissed him hard this time. With a familiar hand, he held Kyungsoo’s face to his, guided his lips apart and tasted deep. Their tongues slid over each other messily. Kyungsoo’s grip on the cotton tightened until he was squeezing skin. He wanted it so much better and _closer_ and it was only at the dizzying thought of biting him that he remembered that he needed to breathe. 

He broke the kiss with an exhale. Chanyeol appeared to be shaking when he raised a thumb and carefully wiped the gloss from the gangster’s lips. 

Beyond them, the sound of the door opening. Voices. Change.

Kyungsoo’s attention refused to shift. He waited until the drunken flush had faded from the gangster’s cheeks before he smiled. And then he politely returned his hands to his side and brushed past him, not forgetting to deliver a single whispered word.

“ - _Promise_.” 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -
> 
> hello! first thanks again for reading. second, i hope you had a nice xmas!  
> for me this chapter took a long time haha - lots of breaks bc of the holiday but i /think/ i'm happy w it. i am still trying to get back into the rhythm of writing so forgive me if i play around with the pace/style and everything else... as this fic is a little like a scratch pad for me rn :)
> 
> regardless, there is a story with many overlapping lines and waves and i hope the current of chansoo that will run underneath will continue strong. the only thing i really wanted to point out is jongin will come back and will be important in this fic, as will junmyeon and minseok. but rlly jongin haha 
> 
> ok thank you again for all the nice comments- the plot plods along and your author team composed of one will keep it together till next time! pls do say hello if you want as i like to read them ^^ and pls again, i am just a little office mouse who writes as stress relief so pls pls be nice lolol 
> 
> thank you and early happy new year's!


	4. Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.”_  
>  ― Edna St. Vincent Millay

-

Boredom. Over the years, Chanyeol had usefully observed that if there was one thing that likely led to a spell of trouble when it came to Kyungsoo - it was any time that he happened to feel bored. Many memorable headaches had come from this type of restlessness - random fights, runaway attempts, and periods of unnecessary sulking.

So in many ways, seeing a tall teenage boy sneak out through Kyungsoo's bedroom window as he was walking towards the house, did not surprise him. Not after taking into account that Kyungsoo had entered the fourth day of being grounded as a result of failing his most recent chemistry exam.

He came into the house with the fleeting thought that they needed to improve their security. It was a secondary thought to the unsettling feeling of _what_ the boy had been doing in Kyungsoo’s room. Not that he cared- or rather, he couldn’t care and _shouldn’t_ care and therefore he didn’t. 

Behind the wooden sliding door was the sound of pleasant humming. Chanyeol knocked twice and came in to find Kyungsoo on his bed, with a guitar on the side and music sheets around him. He was fully-dressed and his balcony door was wide open to a rather cold breeze.

“ _What do you want_?” Kyungsoo asked. He didn’t look up from the music sheet he was examining but he didn’t hum again.

" _I saw the boy leaving_." Chanyeol said. " _I thought you two were--_ " he trailed off, unsure exactly where he was going next.

" _We were_." Kyungsoo said - knowing exactly where Chanyeol was going. " _But he's also teaching me how to read music. That guitar is his. He plays in a band, you know? Or maybe you don’t. Since you don’t listen to music and all.”_

_“I do listen.”_

_“Well, not the cool kind.”_

_“Says you.”_

_“And?”_

Kyungsoo's strong attachment to music had been punted to be a short-lived interest by Do Shiwoo - to the point that he had indulged his son's intention to attend an Arts college in the fall. Clearly the significance of the fact that his son has spent every waking day listening and watching Japanese boy-idol groups for almost a decade was entirely lost on him. Music and singing was in fact deeply important to Kyungsoo. 

Still, Chanyeol would have assumed that Kyungsoo would prefer to date the idol types. The ones with coloured hair and nice bodies. Not lanky teenage wannabes like the one he had seen escaping clumsily through the upper storey window.

With a sigh, he consciously dropped the topic and gestured at the papers.

" _How far are you getting?"_

_"With him? Pretty far. With this, not so much. Maybe by the time you come back from service I'll be really good. At both. In case that wasn't clear."_

Kyungsoo’s eyes remained fixed on the papers. Chanyeol wished he could poke his cheek but he already knew he was going to get hit. 

" _Do Kyungsoo._ " So he did his best Sangchul imitation instead. Nasal and mockingly accented. " _Why won't you look at me while I'm talking to you? Did God give you wonky eyes?_ "

Nothing. No response. Not even a twitch of a smile. 

Chanyeol rolled his eyes, frustrated.

When he looked down again, Kyungsoo’s eyes were finally on him - equally as bothered. " _Can you leave now?_ ” he demanded, “ _I need to clean my sheets._ ”

And then he smirked as he added,

“ _I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know why_.”

In the afternoon, Baekhyun invited him to the basketball court for their goodbyes. The subject of Kyungsoo’s behaviour entered the ring with little effort - as it had weighed on both their minds.

" _Bro, it's just separation anxiety. You're going to be away for what… three and a half years?_ " Baekhyun said in respect to his thoughts about the whole thing. 

Chanyeol sighed, grip tightening around the basketball as he was bothered with the urge to throw it somewhere unbelievably far.

“ _Closer to four actually._ ” He looked at Baekhyun, “ _That’s a fucking long time isn’t it?_ ”

Baekhyun nodded his head. “ _Fucking long_.”

Hearing how long he was going to be away for his army service was not getting easier for Chanyeol. Not that it should have been a difficult thing in the first place. After all, everyone in the country had a duty to complete their service. Even Changmin, Kyungsoo's young uncle who was the same age as Chanyeol, was already in the army. 

However, it was hardly surprising that a different body of rules applied when you were the only son of a very wealthy mob boss. Not only would the son be exempted from service, a lucky bastard got to take his years and serve it on his behalf. In Kyungsoo's case, it was Chanyeol who was volunteered. He was told only a few weeks ago when his letter came that he would serve both sets of years and do so knowing that it was an _honour_ that Do Shiwoo chose him over the rest of his lackeys. 

Maybe it would have been a less annoying fate had Kyungsoo shown more gratitude. Instead the younger boy had spent the whole week being a brat about the thing. 

And Chanyeol still couldn't stop thinking about that boy. The one in the band. He hadn’t seen him since that one time he saw him clamber from Kyungsoo’s window but he couldn’t shake his presence off.

" _He keeps… bringing boys home_." Chanyeol's throat felt dry as he spoke. " _Can you keep an eye on him and tell him--_ "

" _Tell him what?_ " Baekhyun snorted as he beckoned for the ball. " _He's almost eighteen, Chanyeol. And I don't know if this has occurred to you but you have no right to tell him who he can bring home."_

In truth, this was the fundamental trouble with discussing mob-stuff with Baekhyun. His position as the youngest in his family meant that he was able to get away with things that would be fully unacceptable in the Do household. Chanyeol certainly had no right to tell Kyungsoo who he can bring home - but that did not negate the fact that he _could_ and should. 

" _You should just tell him_." Baekhyun said.

Chanyeol arched an eyebrow as he threw the ball over. " _Tell him what_?"

_"I dunno. Whatever you need to tell him that you're obviously not telling me."_

Baekhyun took his three point shot. It circled the rim before falling into the hoop. His face broke out into a grin. " _Look. Tonight is practically your last night together._ " He looked at him straight before collecting the ball and throwing it his way. " _You should do something with him. He’s going to miss you. You’re going to miss him. End on a high note, you know?”_

Chanyeol didn't answer that question. Instead he attempted his three pointer which went in straight.

“ _Shit_.” Baekhyun said in awe, “ _You’re really good at this_.”

They played for another ten minutes before Chanyeol ended the game and drove home to ask Kyungsoo whether he wanted to go out and have dinner with him later in the night. 

“ _I’m grounded, remember._ ” Kyungsoo had sighed at him before he put down his video games and shot him a grin, “ _But… where are you planning to go?_ ”

“ _Anywhere._ ” And then Chanyeol collapsed onto the couch and took the other console, “ _Winner’s choice?_ ” 

The game went on for an hour and Chanyeol won. Japanese food, it was. 

The decision to kill Shin Kyuhyun's men was not well received by Kyungsoo's uncles and, according to the noise from the grapevines, a proportion of the _Old Boys_ \-- a reference to senior members of other criminal families. 

For Chanyeol, his first discussion of the day about his actions happened in a small standing bar with a few men in a neutral part of the city. He had expected some form of slap on the wrist -- a light one, because whilst it may appear that he had acted on some roguish instinct, he remained very senior within his own rank and free to make a decision when he saw it fit. And it had. This was the view of many influential people within the Do family too. 

Dongsuk, particularly. His stance had softened on the matter after listening to Chanyeol’s description of his rationale - the one that largely left out Kyungsoo’s overarching demand for revenge and focused more on the necessity of preserving the integrity of the family’s reputation and name. The longer we wait, the more we make an ass of ourselves and nobody wants that.

"We respect that. Sure. Of course." Dongsuk said to him. "But it just makes an already fucked situation just that little bit harder to predict. I think everyone was under the impression that we would wait until we make a move, especially one that drastic. You know?”

"It isn't that hard to predict." Sungjae snorted. "They're going to come after us next. So why don’t we just get off our ass and prepare for that?”

Sungjae was one of the youngest in the room which meant that he possessed the rowdier mouth. He was the godson of one of Do Shiwoo’s oldest associates and had been offered his place as part of the security team a week after graduating high school. A few years had passed now and yet there was still a boyish quality about him that sapped his words of any believable authority, leaving him open to ridicule.

"Did we ask for your wise words, genius?" Dongsuk scowled. “Obviously we know that and we _are_ preparing. At least that’s what I think we’re doing. Right?”

A few hums came in response. Chanyeol thought that the sound would’ve been far more convincing if instead of hums the sound was just the collective sound of bees buzzing.

"We should talk about these Northerners that have moved down. Do we worry about them?” Someone else piped up. The hum that followed was a lot louder. Clearly, this matter was more important to them than the prospect of some inter-mob slaughter. 

Unsurprising. Because if there was anything that mobsters hated more than cops, it was the prospect of panic. 

Even if, as far as Chanyeol was concerned, bloodshed was definitely coming and some of that blood may be a sacrificial donation from the people currently in the room.

His attention went away at that point. Afterwards, everyone's business was split and all the liquor glasses were left empty and set on the bartop in a neat row. He was given a _visitation_ task - someone wasn’t paying their dues and it was up to him and his partner to remind the guy that his payments were fast coming up.

Outside, his partner-for-the-day, Changmin, was already waiting for him with a cigarette between his lips. He was dark-haired and fair, with limbs that always seemed too long to make him appear attractively proportioned. His slim frame was pressed snug against a tall metal pole as his eyes were set on a group of men across the street. They were too busy discussing something amongst themselves to notice how Changmin's gaze grew darker as they disappeared, how his lips curled inwards into a snarl as he drew smoke and exhaled. 

"Northern scum." He said stiffly. Loud enough for Chanyeol to hear. "The Shins have been shipping them in droves. Don't know what for."

"They're bodies." Chanyeol said, watching too. "It's war, remember? Bodies win wars."

Northerners always had a way about them. Tall, quiet - sly, even. Chanyeol kept to his ranks and didn’t fraternize with any. 

Changmin smirked before he offered Chanyeol the cigarette - which was rejected.

"I quit."

Changmin scoffed. "Shut up."

"I did."

"Why?"

Chanyeol didn't answer that. Changmin took that moment to think before his smirk scaled into laughter as the cigarette was flicked away and crushed against concrete. His smile was a funny one. There was never any telling what it meant because it rarely reached his eyes.

"What's funny?" Chanyeol asked. 

"You are." 

Changmin then pointed at his car door. "You drive. My car's in the garage.”

“Sure.”

They travelled in silence to the center of town. Changmin knew the way and Chanyeol allowed himself to be guided by his directions until they found their spot for the stake out. It was still early and the city was in the midst of waking up. Hard metal gates were being pulled up by a vendor’s hand one-by-one, introducing a florist - a boutique - a bakery; combined, a consequential serving of notice to the creatures of the night that their world was gone now. Now a set of different creatures would hold the world for them. But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t venture out - they just have to do their business under guises. In the shadows. In cars. With guns in their pockets.

The inside of the old car was quiet and a little cold. The sun hadn’t reached them yet. 

"He won't come to his shop for another hour." Changmin said. “So let's have fun in the meantime." 

Cold lips touched the rough skin of Chanyeol's cheek as a hand came and squeezed the skin of his thigh. 

Chanyeol flinched hard at the sequence of touches. Like he had been burned. "Fuck. Min-- you can't.” He moved aside, and stared, “We can't."

“Why?” Changmin moved towards him again.

He refused it the second time. 

“ _Why_?” There was something visibly cold in Changmin’s expression. He wasn’t surprised; he had fully expected to be pushed away. “What else have you quit just because he’s come home?”

“Don’t act up just because.”

They hadn’t done this in a while. Any of this. Long enough for Chanyeol to know that it certainly didn’t have to happen now of all times.

“Answer me then.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t answer. Instead he looked out and continued to watch the city - and cursed it, how slow it was when he needed it to be faster. How it seemed to root him to the worst of places when there were others where he genuinely needed to be. 

“How long till he gets here?”

“Suit yourself.” Changmin said coldly. “And I said an hour.”

Changmin’s voice returned to its usual unfeeling drone - although Chanyeol knew better than to think that the subject had been dropped. 

When he looked at him seconds later, Changmin’s eyes were on the road. His gaze was far too dark when regarding the innocent people passing by in their uniforms on their way to work. It was obvious that his thoughts were somewhere else - and it would become very clear to Chanyeol when moments later he heard his terrible words cross the space between them, 

“I bet Shiwoo is glad that he died before he could see the two of you back together. I think he would’ve finally shot you if he saw this bullshit starting up again.” 

Chanyeol’s eyes remained on the dashboard. There was a peeling plastic sticker of a large-busted anime girl. Kyungsoo had probably put it there.

“Don’t fuck with Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol told him. “I’m warning you now. I’ll shoot you myself.”

He heard Changmin laugh like he’d heard a hearty joke.

Later, following his morning tasks, Chanyeol returned to the house with the knowledge that a few had tried to pay Kyungsoo a visit in the secure complex of the Dos. Only two were given approval by the house resident: Byun Baekhyun at 11am for two hours and more recently, Kim Jongin. Twenty minutes. To drop off a box of honey crisps.

Chanyeol was the third.

He walked into the house and was met with the sound of the living room television playing some foreign movie. Still in his pyjamas, Kyungsoo was lazing on the oversized chaise, watching, with the twin dalmatians as company - Peach and Pepper - with the latter nuzzling at his chest. 

Chanyeol was allergic so he sat on a smaller chair in the opposite end of the room. 

"How was your day?” He opened the conversation with a casual voice, before he added - “Bored? Hungry? Uh… any visitors I should know about?" 

There was an explosion in the movie that jolted the screen. Kyungsoo looked at him and grinned widely. 

"I know there are cameras here so you don't need to act all innocent,” he mused as he patted Pepper on the forehead. 

Chanyeol shrugged. "What was he doing here?" he asked more directly, “Jongin. Not Baekhyun.” 

"Visiting.” Kyungsoo answered, “He was telling me about what the Kims thought about what happened at the market. They aren't happy. Nobody is happy. Minseok is a little spooked by what happened last night apparently. And the Shins have reached out again. Jongin says he'll do his best to stop them from going backwards too far. There’s curiosity… and then there’s just treachery. We discussed that and I think he understands where we’re coming from.”

"Ah, so Jongin said all that did he?"

"Yes, it’s nice of him isn’t it? It's nice to have friends that care to keep you up to date on things.”

He was playing him like a piano. Chanyeol’s teeth gritted as he let himself get played, felt all his keys get bangled up by Kyungsoo’s knowing hand. 

"Is that what he wants? He wants to be your friend?" he replied.

"I guess.” Kyungsoo’s eyes returned to the screen as the dalmatians grumbled for some inaudible reason. “I'm sure he'd be willing to be your friend. If you didn't look so sour all the time."

“I’m not sour.”

Chanyeol frowned. Kyungsoo grinned. The film continued to play and they watched the climax together - the fast-paced chase scene, the burn of rubber on concrete as the drivers got away, and the panic of a last-minute twist. It engrossed Chanyeol enough that he totally missed how the dalmatians had left the room and Kyungsoo had moved towards him, to transfer all the attention onto him - and with it, the physical touches.

With a soft noise, Kyungsoo placed his head on his chest and Chanyeol adjusted for him, reclining his body against the soft back, just as he used to. This was effortless in many ways. He used to do this to him when nobody was around because they were alone so often. Chanyeol wondered if anyone had ever speculated exactly what it all meant. And then, almost on an effortless cycle, he wondered whether Do Shiwoo would’ve shot him had he seen this. No doubt that a shot taken from the back would’ve produced a cinematic image; his blood and goo splattered on the television screen that Kyungsoo loved so much. 

But the reality was that he was dead and they were alive. 

In his care, Kyungsoo sighed loudly. And then, 

“My uncles came to see me. They won't let me take the reins on the account that I whored myself out in Tokyo for a few months. I don’t think they’ve grasped that they have to pry Appa's title out of my dead hands." 

A mistake on their part. Chanyeol grasped that point the moment he took Kyungsoo home and saw the way he had looked at the desk where his father had been murdered. There was no pain like a son losing his father. It would overcome anything. Even the rooted hatred towards an inescapable legacy.

“So you’ll fight them then?” Chanyeol asked. Coy, because he knew the answer.

“Of course.” Kyungsoo’s hand brushed against his. “With you.”

Affection was all there was for a moment. It lingered in the air like a rosy scent. But as Chanyeol’s gaze moved and skated over the two empty glasses on the table, it vanished. This was the annoying impermanence of affection - it wasn’t a real feeling. But the emptiness that Chanyeol felt afterward was very real - and just like that, he desperately wanted to be alone and far away. 

"Did you sleep with Jongin in Tokyo." He said. It wasn’t a question. More, an accusation.

The man’s head on his chest stirred. 

"No."

"Are you going to?"

“Is that your business?”

“On some level, yeah.” 

The words were barely there. They revolted him in the same way that cigarette smoke did even when he smoked a pack a day like it was nothing. He spoke more and revolted himself more, and noted how his body grew cold as the warmth and heaviness of the touches disappeared. 

“I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to remind you but here it is. You can’t be doing what you were doing over there, over here. You aren’t in Tokyo anymore. Nobody’s allowed to fuck things up more for the family.” 

Kyungsoo raised his head and looked back. The glare was deadly.

“Fuck off, Chanyeol.” And then his hand came and pushed hard against Chanyeol’s chest - against the spot he had occupied, “Get the fuck out of here.” 

Chanyeol didn’t move for a second - just a second - to fully appreciate the print of fury on Kyungsoo’s face. Except it wasn’t there. Instead there was an obvious twist of hurt - in the shocked stillness of his eyes, the light tremble of his sweet mouth.

The same mouth that would repeat the same old venom.

“Fuck off Chanyeol,” he said, never missing a beat - and, as far as Chanyeol knew, never truly meaning it - “Fuck off you motherfucker.”

The dogs returned and began to bark at his feet.

“Kyungsoo,” he began, feeling awash with guilt, “Don’t misunderstand--”

Kyungsoo didn’t answer him. He simply repeated his words and pushed him away again and again until he was practically screaming.

_“Fuck off you stupid dumb motherfucker!!!”_

_“Fuck youuuu tooooooo!”_

_“Eat shit!”_

Their last dinner was followed by a lengthy session at the arcade. This meant an hour of games: both retro video classics and the ultra-competitive dance games that Kyungsoo absolutely excelled at. Chanyeol tended to tease him about it in the hopes of distracting him so he wouldn’t get his high score. Tonight was no different. During his session of _Dance, Dance XTRA_ , Chanyeol threw enough popcorn at Kyungsoo’s head to get them escorted out of the facility.

Kyungsoo remained angry about it for a half hour. And then his head cooled, after he was bought the unbeatable combination of a milkshake and fresh greasy doughnuts and taken to one of his favourite spots in the city. It was a little patch of green just east of the river. Their favourite place to smoke and have spontaneous picnics because it wasn’t that far from the gym that they trained at.

“ _So, are you excited for college?_ ” Chanyeol asked him as he watched Kyungsoo finish his milkshake and crush the paper cup between his two hands. 

“ _Kinda_.” Kyungsoo answered. “ _Bet it will be boring as hell.”_

_“Probably.”_

“ _At least you’d get to do some singing.”_

_“Yeah, but I fucking hate school.”_

The air was so clean on this side of the city. Chanyeol always felt a little cleaner after a visit - like he was breathing something purifying.

_“Are you excited to go into the army_?” Kyungsoo asked. 

_“Yeah, sure.”_

_“Are you really?”_

Chanyeol looked at him in the hopes of determining his intention for asking. Instead what he noted was how Kyungsoo’s face looked so different up close. How much softer his features looked. How distinct he was from the rest of the hard lines that scarred the faces of his family members.

_“Not really,”_ he answered. “ _But I have to do it don’t I?”_

_“I wish I just went with you.”_

Again, what were the intentions behind that?

_“You don’t mean that. College is way better.”_

_“I do mean it.”_ The cup was crushed a little more, making that familiar crunching noise - _“I wish I just went with you.”_

“ _Why?_ ” It was easier to ask. Chanyeol laughed, although he wasn’t sure what his own intentions behind that laugh was - “ _Why would you even want that?”_

“ _You really don’t know?”_

Chanyeol exhaled. “ _No, I don’t. So tell me.”_

No words followed. Instead, they became silent and the sound of the city took over for them. It conversed, laughed, and told stories. Its familiarity was warming. Kyungsoo’s eyes remained fixed on the river, and then he said,

_“Since it’s your last night. Can we do something?”_

_“Sure.”_

There, Kyungsoo took his hand and pressed their thumbs together. And then, he aligned them and brushed his thumb over the skin of his.

_“I want to get a tattoo together.”_

The sentence brought a mildsmile to Chanyeol’s face. He had wondered whether he was going to miss this whole thing entirely in his long absence. Kyungsoo’s first tattoo - as special as a coming of age.

So he said yes. Chanyeol brought him to the place where everyone who was anyone in their circles got it done and after some reassurance to the vendor that the Dos would absolutely approve of Do Kyungsoo getting his first there, everything was set. They had a matching set of twin roses done - a joint choice because Chanyeol had privately wanted a flower of sorts for ages. Small and elegant; nothing too detailed or procedurally lengthy for Kyungsoo who endured it all like a pro.

After, as they emerged from the shop and found themselves in an empty street under the bare gaze of starlight, Kyungsoo told him that he was going to miss him. A lot. More than he could say or ever admit to. 

_“... so be careful out there.”_

They walked side-by-side in the middle of the empty road. Going nowhere. It was that time of night when the hour itself didn’t matter. When sunrise felt just as distant as sunset and the world felt indescribably infinite.

_“And don’t forget me.”_

Chanyeol stilled. His body felt heavy when he turned to Kyungsoo - his voice, and words, heavier still.

_“How could I forget you?”_

On Kyungsoo’s face, a bemused smile.

_“I can name a few times where you’ve forgotten about me, fucker.”_

_“Name one.”_

Kyungsoo named three. All old memories from when they had been kids and used to play terrible pranks on each other. Always ended with one or the other or both in tears.

_“I’m not going to forget about you Kyungsoo,_ ” Chanyeol sighed at him, exasperated at being dragged through memory lane,

_“How can I be sure?”_

Chanyeol threw it all right back. Because he’s a fucking grown-up. Because people didn’t just forget about other people. Because it’s only three years and he didn’t have any known loose screws yet. He fumed over the question privately - but he wasn’t able to hide it from his face. 

_“Stop taking it so seriously,”_ Kyungsoo said, smiling. “ _It was a joke.”_

Chanyeol’s jaw unclenched as he sought strength from the sky - from the clean air - from the promise that there was nothing out there that would hear and take this moment away from him. 

_“Well I want you to know that I'll miss you too and that I won’t forget you. I mean I can’t. How can I? You’re so annoying that you’re on my mind all the fucking time.”_

The world was as still as they were. Kyungsoo didn’t reply but he had the biggest, most stupid smile on his face. 

At that moment, Chanyeol became overwhelmed with the urge to kiss his warm lips so he _did_. 

And after, when their lips separated and Kyungsoo’s eyes looked at him wide, a car zoomed past and honked at them to get out of the way. The stillness broke. The world restarted its spin. They ended up on opposite sides of the road. Neither crossed; but both kept on walking. Chanyeol’s face burned as he rubbed it against his ice cold hands. A deep anger roused in him and he took it out on a tree - a park bench - anything else he happened to walk past until, mid-spin, he was _caught_.

_“Stop.”_

Kyungsoo had crossed and held him in an embrace.

_“I shouldn’t have-”_

_“You shouldn’t.”_

A hand brushed Chanyeol’s cheek.

_“I won’t tell. I promise I won’t tell.”_

_“Fuck.”_

_“Stop fighting me._

Chanyeol looked down at Kyungsoo’s face, at that same stupid smile, and wondered truly, what was going on in the other’s mind when he stretched upwards and returned his earlier kiss with another. It was a kiss he couldn’t return but he did, because he thought he could, because the night made him feel like he could. 

Because he had wanted to for a while. What was a while? Since when? How could Chanyeol answer that when it had always been him. 

“ _This is so dumb_ ,” Kyungsoo told him. “ _Making out in the street.”_

_“You’re dumb.”_

Reckless, they continued to kiss each other until their fingers and lips were cold. I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long; _me too_.

And then an agreed promise of silence - sealed by the union of fingers, and roses as the rest of the night bled between their embrace.

The next day, the entire thing felt like a scene Chanyeol had daydreamed to soothe his travel anxiety. Everything returned to normal and he was shipped away in the evening for the long car journey to the military camp. Kyungsoo said his goodbyes stood proudly beside his father and it was all smiles.

“ _Bye Chanyeol_.” He said, “ _See you soon_.”

“ _See ya._ ” Chanyeol looked at him at that doorstep, knowing that he would never look the same again. This would be the last time he meets this Kyungsoo because the next time, he would meet a stranger of the future. 

He wouldn’t look the same; wouldn’t sound the same; but would he feel the same?

This was the extent of their goodbyes. Their reunion was fated to take place four years later - in autumn time, during an unusually rainy period in mid-November. 

After all that time, Chanyeol returned to the Do complex, wearing his army jacket - and after meeting Do Shiwoo briefly, he was given his first task of driving Kyungsoo home.

“ _Where is he_?” he had asked, as he looked out into the harsh rainfall. 

“ _Cheesecake cafe_ ,” Do Shiwoo answered. “ _He’s there with his boyfriend_.”

The rain sounded a little louder in Chanyeol’s ears when he placed his bag on the floor and nodded. He then asked for the car keys and then drove out hastily into the storm.

The Cheesecake Cafe. It was almost ten in the evening and Chanyeol had received a heads-up from those manning the house that Kyungsoo had broken the rules and driven himself into the city - apparently to buy some cheesecake because that was where he had ended up.

Although he was officially off-duty for the day, Chanyeol rightly took over the surveillance task. He had no plans on intervening in Kyungsoo’s night after what had occurred in the afternoon, so he pledged that he would remain in the car no matter what. Even if the other man decided to selfishly stay in the cafe for hours and hours - which he was accustomed to doing.

From his car seat, he could see Kyungsoo sitting at his favourite table, on occasion sipping a cup of coffee and looking out into the dark of the parking lot. His company was scarce. The place was practically empty at this hour- aside from college students doing late-night studying and passing truckers eating an evening snack. 

It occurred to Chanyeol then: how the very first time he’d parked his car in this lot was that first day he returned from his long army service. It had been raining hard when he pulled up into a free spot and looked out to see Kyungsoo, for the very first time in almost four years, stood by the window of the cafe - laughing and smiling - in the arms of another man. 

At the sight, Chanyeol had felt something grow in his chest - something new and rotten - that he’d long neglected but would stir awake now as he looked powerlessly through the same window and watched his past repeat.

There, Kyungsoo. Here, the cafe. And across, in the rainless dark, Kim Jongin’s tall form appeared as he sat down to occupy the opposite seat in the cafe booth. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~
> 
> thank you for your patience everyone! this story is still going ^_^ the main thought i had whilst writing this was who i imagine to play changmin hahaha i stil haven't decided but i'll come back here if i think of the face.
> 
> < song; run by joji >


	5. Field of Tulips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_  
>  in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”  
> ― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

-

The demands of college were proving impossible for Kyungsoo. At first, he’d coped with the challenge by cloaking it in excitement - in novelty - but all of that had worn out now. Doing what he loved, singing, was one thing but writing endless papers and forcibly attending classes with people he didn’t care for felt like a complete betrayal to what he’d signed up to.

Half-hearted, he had been attending for two semesters and he finally received the long-awaited news yesterday that he was officially failing. Unsurprising considering he hadn’t gone along to a single class for a few weeks now. Instead he alternated between solo karaoke sessions at the local joints and The Cheesecake Cafe during his specified ‘class hours’ before running to his dorm apartment for a nap. No doubt he’d signed up to his downfall with a smile on his face.

Helped even more with the fact that the only person that could potentially talk him out of it was a hundred miles away and completely out of contact.

" _Here, it's on the house._ "

A stranger’s voice intruded in the gloom of his thoughts. Kyungsoo looked at the cup of coffee across him and then at the young man that brought it. He had a lovely smile on his face, coupled with warm eyes and a deep rich voice. Kyungsoo knew him only as the handsome barista because he had refused to speak to anyone during his secret rendezvous at the cafe out of shame.

" _Thanks_.” He looked at the coffee suspiciously before adding, “ _I have a boyfriend by the way.”_

The barista laughed. He had a dimple on his cheek. Kyungsoo stared at it and thought about Chanyeol. And then he sighed. 

_"Ah yeah, I figured that - from the many weekdays I’ve seen you sit here for hours on end. Alone.”_ The barista responded, before laughing. _“Anyway. You’re welcome. And enjoy the coffee.”_

The coffee was sublime. The next time that Kyungsoo came, they introduced themselves - and Seonho made his coffee again. As the weeks went by, they talked more and more until their conversations moved from short counter-to-cashier greetings to long afternoons in a booth when the cafe was quiet. It took a while for Kyungsoo to open up so the initial talks were really carried by Seonho telling him stories about his life - about how he was saving up money to travel abroad, about the time he was bitten by a snake whilst swimming in a lake, about why Columbian coffee was his favourite. 

Eventually, after some persuading, and some more good coffee, Kyungsoo shared with Seonho that he had been skipping class because it had all been too much. That was it. _Too much_. Seonho had nodded. _I know that feeling. Don’t worry_ \-- 

And that same week, he went with him to the school office just so he could help explain the situation to his advisor. Everything was sorted out just like that. Kyungsoo could attend class and earn his credits back in the summer - and to prepare he started to visit the cafe on weekends with books and notes. Seonho cheered him on. 

It was over a ginger latte and under fairy-lights during a showery spring that Kyungsoo finally talked about Chanyeol. He talked about how much he missed him - about how they could only talk for ten minutes at a time and there were times when he felt like his heart was being crushed by the loneliness that followed.

_“He says he’s being dispatched for active service for the next six months.”_ Kyungsoo said with a frown. _“I won’t be able to call him anymore.”_

_“You can write letters?”_ Seonho suggested. 

_“He won’t like it. He’ll think it’s cheesy.”_

_“Really? I did some writing in high school. Maybe I can help you.”_ Seonho took a napkin, nabbed a pen from his apron and scribbled. And then, he showed him - 

_Don’t be latte for our call_

The frown broke apart messily, like an egg splat. Kyungsoo laughed even though he felt embarrassed that he did. But it clarified what had became clear in a very short while - how nobody in the world could make Kyungsoo laugh in the way that Seonho did. 

Kyungsoo passed his course that first summer and he returned to college the next year. His relationship with Seonho only grew stronger. They saw each other more often that not. Eventually, it culminated in Seonho attending Kyungsoo’s most important talent showcase and during the dinner afterwards, they kissed. It was mutual; they had both wanted to, right at the same moment. Shy, but intentional, Seonho confessed his feelings carrying a bouquet of tulips and Kyungsoo had never felt lighter and more secure than when he returned them. Naturally, they became boyfriends. 

Even the hard barrier, that of his Appa’s approval, was overcome seamlessly. Do Shiwoo met Seonho once at the Cheesecake Cafte after Kyungsoo brought him there. The two men met and talked about coffee beans - and that same night, his father told him that he approved. That so long as Kyungsoo was happy, and the rules would continue to be upheld, then everything would be acceptable. 

Baekhyun approved too. He met Seonho by accident after dropping into his city apartment out of the blue during one of the weekends that the couple were spending together.

“ _Can you believe Appa approved_?” Kyungsoo asked him after as Seonho said goodbye and Baekhyun stayed behind to keep him company. 

“ _Course he approves_ ,” Baekhyun laughed. “ _Your Appa wants one thing for you. He wants you to settle down in the real world. With a real man. Not a gangster. It’s why he’s let you live the life you live. And Seonho is everything he could’ve wanted for you.”_

Kyungsoo agreed. This was what his Appa had told him. There’s a world out there son - a world that I’m not a part of and you could be if you worked for it. 

“ _You love him right?_ ” Baekhyun asked.

“ _Yeah._ ”

“ _More than anything? More than anyone?”_

Kyungsoo arched an eyebrow.

“ _What do you mean?_ ” 

“ _Well, if he’s the one, my suggestion to you is that you take him and get the hell out of here. Gangsters don’t get happy endings. Eventually, this city will catch up to you and I want you to take advantage of this head start.”_

It was strange. All his life he’d felt like cutting ties and jetting off somewhere where those around him would never find him. He’d run away so often that it wasn’t even a genuine threat anymore. But here, all of a sudden, just when he was finding his roots - everyone seemed keen to send him away. 

Two days later and Kyungsoo would find himself dragged into a car by one of his guards as the city was put in lockdown. It was the first serious threat since he’d started dating Seonho and explaining the entire thing was exhausting - especially with Seonho being the concerned type.

_Is everything OK?_

They were confined to texting since Kyungsoo was prohibited from leaving his home for security reasons. 

_Yeah it’s ok sorry this happens sometimes :/ but i’m safe_

_Good. Tbh i wish they’d trust me to keep you safe :P_

It was an enduring pain for Seonho that he was forbidden from driving Kyungsoo home. And for Kyungsoo, there was no doubt that being with his boyfriend was far more preferable than being stuck at home. So there, the eager advice of those around him echoed through his thoughts and he found himself forming a plan and acceptance - 

_You could do it if we were out of here_

_By out of here you mean…._

_Just away._

_The 2 of us?_

_Yeahhh_

_That’s fine with me ;) [...] Let’s get out of here_

This conversation took place two weeks before the November rains. The day Kyungsoo stepped out of the cafe and saw Chanyeol for the first time in four years underneath the black umbrella. 

The Cheesecake Cafe got its name from the award-winning cheesecake that it made. Unsurprising; but the coffee was stellar too. Kyungsoo was visiting it for the first time since leaving for Japan and the nostalgia hit him square in the forehead.

Sat in his preferred booth, he could remember the exact spot where Seonho placed his free coffee the first time that lonely afternoon. The tablecloth had changed from the outdated floral crap but everything else was still the same - down to the arrangement of the cutlery and condiments. He took a deep breath as a cold chill ran down his spine, followed by a slow penetrating sadness that guided his thoughts somewhere dark. 

A shadow appeared moments later - followed by the smell of expensive perfume. 

“You’re late.” Kyungsoo told Jongin as he tapped the surface of his electronic watch. “We said ten. It’s ten fifteen.”

Jongin was smirking down at him. He ensured that their eyes were acquainted before he took his seat. He was dressed wonderfully for a weekday evening: three-piece navy suit, ocean blue tie and hair slicked all heartbreaker style. He looked like he was off for a photoshoot somewhere. 

“Traffic,” was Jongin’s cool retort as he wiped his sleeve down, “I was coming from midtown.”

“From a party?” 

“My godmother’s birthday.” Jongin said, “I’m afraid I’ve eaten so no more cheesecake for me. I’ll take a coffee though. I heard it was good.” 

The waitress came and they ordered two coffees. Jongin insisted on getting the refillable set - even if it had already been agreed between them that the meeting would be short and sweet. 

Jongin’s eyes were on him the whole time. The gaze felt friendly but sharp. The good thing was that Kyungsoo wasn’t shy or meek around men. This was why he chose to spoke first - to break the ice and allow him to set the pieces as a wall between them. 

“So…you wanted to see me Jongin. Here I am. What do you want?”

Jongin laughed. “Hey. Don’t say it like you don’t want something from me either. I know I’d never get an audience from you if it didn’t go both ways.”

“It doesn’t go both ways.” 

Jongin continued to chuckle softly. The waitress returned with their coffees and was just placing the bowl of sugar cubes between them when Jongin said,

“I want to date you.”

She stilled like an animal in headlights. Jongin barely showed any notice of her. Kyungsoo rather liked the entire showmanship of it - even if hearing it out in the open made him visibly flinch. 

“No you don’t.” He said, offering the waitress a thank you as she walked away.

Jongin sipped his coffee. “Alright,” he sighed. “What do you think I want from you then?”

“Sex.” Kyungsoo sipped his own. “I didn’t give it to you back then and now you’re… sulking. You’re probably an egomaniac and you want to strike my rejection out of your history books.”

The words were a little harsh but Kyungsoo found that Jongin’s boldness irritated him. So much so that he chose to throw it right back to see if he could take just as much as he gave.

“Close.” Jongin corrected. “Yes, I _do_ want sex. But I want it as your boyfriend. Actually, I’m not an egomaniac. You’re just my type and I want to shoot my shot.”

“Don’t you think the timing is all wrong?” 

“No, I think the timing is all right. Your family wants to ally with mine and our relationship will seal the deal.” 

“Ah.” Kyungsoo interjected quickly. “So it’s a business transaction.”

“No,” Jongin said just as fast. “I’m just saying that that is what everyone else will see. But the truth remains: I want to date you and I’m a trier when it comes to getting what I want.” 

They were the kind of words that could make a fool’s heart thud. Silly, naive fools, who daydream to be the prizes in rich men’s carnival games. Kyungsoo had seen and heard a lot of it before and he knew the danger of falling into something that was a complete fabrication: an imitation of desire. Nothing but the product of someone’s mania. 

“We could’ve had fun in Tokyo, you know.” Jongin said, “But you refused. Don’t you ever think of what you could’ve missed out on?”

“No. I don’t trust you.” Kyungsoo shrugged.

Jongin smirked. 

“You don't have to trust me. How about just dinner? Tuesday. I'll pick you up."

"I don’t get picked up. And I'm busy Tuesday."

"C’mon. Give me a chance to change your mind.”

“You can change my mind when you and your brothers request an audience and pledge allegiance.” 

“Damn.” Jongin whistled. “So we’re back to business then.”

“I never said it wasn’t about business.”

“Understood.” It went quiet. And then, “You know, I never got it out of my mind how you looked that night. Fuck. I remembered all of it when I saw you the other day.”

Kyungsoo couldn’t even remember that night. He was sure he would’ve forgotten Jongin’s face entirely if he hadn’t been as handsome as he was. But it was hard to forget a face like his and the fear that speared through his heart at the idea that he had gotten himself unintentionally wound up into something. But the fear went away eventually. Numbed by the notion that he didn’t really care.

“Me either,” Kyungsoo responded idly. “What do you like about the way I look?”

“You look like you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Jongin smiled, “But I bet you’ve toyed with a few hearts over the years, haven’t you? It’s always the same deal. The ones that look like they don’t sting carry the deadliest poison.” 

It wasn't today. It couldn't have been today-- but it was him, right there, so it must have been. Kyungsoo wanted to be angry with himself because he had missed how it was today -- today! Really today! -- but it was nothing compared to the _burn_ of how much he had missed him. And so when he saw him cross the rain in the parking lot, umbrella at hand, he went to him without an ounce of hesitation or awareness of the rain and embraced him. 

Chanyeol hugged him back with his free arm. For a moment, Kyungsoo revelled in the unfamiliarity of it; of him. He felt bigger in his arms and smelled different too but the way he hugged him tight was still the same.

" _Hey_." Chanyeol’s voice was the same soothing depth. " _You should introduce me to-_ -"

Kyungsoo looked back and beamed at Seonho before letting his arms fall and introducing them. Chanyeol-- this is Seonho. Seonho, this is Chanyeol. A mild exchange followed; mainly small talk and Seonho discussing his own army service and showing respect for Chanyeol’s enlistmnt. Then they said goodbye with Kyungsoo kissing his boyfriend on the lips and then following Chanyeol to his car.

Nothing happened for a second. They just looked at each other. Kyungsoo observed that Chanyeol’s hair was noticeably short. His face was stubbly and made him look older. He also appeared thinner but he was still as handsome as he remembered. 

" _Missed me_?" Chanyeol retorted with a smirk, as he finally broke the silence.

" _Fuck no._ " Kyungsoo spat before smiling wide. “ _You should've told me you were coming back. I would’ve met you at the airport.”_

Admittedly, this seemed better somehow. Kyungsoo felt everything on an organic level - he didn’t have the room to question or overthink his reactions because he felt all of it at once - the joy and relief at seeing him, and the wonder at what version of _him_ had returned.

" _I guess I should have. But I wanted it to be a surprise_.” Chanyeol said. 

_“Why?”_

_“Cause I knew you’d miss me.”_

Kyungsoo watched him as he lit a cigarette and reversed out of the parking lot. Noting it had stopped raining, he rolled down the windows and turned up the radio, smiling wide as he caught the bluster of the winter air on his cheeks.

_"He's a looker. Your boyfriend. How long?"_ Chanyeol asked.   
_  
"Two years now. He's a bit older than me and you. He's almost twenty seven. I told you about him before… remember?"_

Chanyeol nodded. The radio station switched songs. Kyungsoo liked this one and wondered if Chanyeol knew it. He had been away so long. There were a lot of songs they needed to listen to together. A lot to catch up. 

The gangster yawned. _"I'm craving seafood. Is our favourite place still open?”_

Kyungsoo smiled at the word. _Our_.

_“Yeah, let’s go there.”_

_“Your treat, yeah?”_

_“OK. My treat.”  
_

A month passed and as Chanyeol settled easily back into his old life, Kyungsoo found himself gravitating to the same self-destructive instincts. Inattentiveness. Restlessness. 

Recklessness.

But he had never felt happier. Seeing Chanyeol everyday and having him by his side gave weight to a growing emptiness that he had felt within him. Home felt like home now. So instead of being in the city, he slept back in the compound and argued with his Appa less. Chanyeol indulged him. They spent all their time together. When he wasn't doing his chores, he drove Kyungsoo around so they could see the city and all the new favourite things he had discovered. There were so many spots to add to their list. New restaurants. Street food stalls. Arcades. Kyungsoo even suggested changing their preferred riverside hideout. There was a better place with a higher vantage point and less teenagers smoking joints.

It was there, on a boring Sunday, that Kyungsoo attempted to kiss him and Chanyeol stopped him.

_Don't start something you can't finish._

He said it with genuine curiosity concealed underneath. Can you? Can you finish it? Kyungsoo wasn’t sure so he didn’t provide his answer there and then.

The only times they weren't together was when he was with Seonho. Nowadays those times were confined to their Friday coffee dates. Kyungsoo hadn’t missed one of those since they first started dating; not even when he had a Saturday exam. 

" _I talked to my Mom about travelling and seeing her._ "

They sat together in their favourite booth. Seonho was holding his hand. He had the softest, loveliest hands and that translated to Kyungsoo’s favourite touch. Often, he’d find his heart naturally lowering its frantic beating just from the thought of being held by him. Their connection was almost spiritual at this point. Fated.

" _Is your family still OK with you going?"_

Kyungsoo looked up and nodded his head. He had discussed their trip with his Appa a while back. He doubted that time would’ve changed his Appa’s mind. He was a resolute decision-maker.

" _Are you OK with going?"_

Seonho was smiling at him despite the faintest concern sitting on his voice.

Kyungsoo nodded again. “ _Of course._ ” He wished he could just make out with him.

So he could stop with the questions.

_"Are you OK?"_

It was getting irritating. Kyungsoo rubbed his eyes with his free hand. The smell of the cheesecake was a little much today,

_"I love you."_

The first time Seonho said those words, Kyungsoo had been so overwhelmed he had cried like a baby. They were still powerful.

_"I love you, Seonho.”_

But he wasn’t sure whether his own words had ever contained the same level of meaning. Certainly Seonho had never cried over them. But he guessed that they hadn’t overwhelmed him because blatant lies rarely did. He was good like that.

They finished the conversation with the settlement that they’d look at dates and flights together around the end of the month.

Kyungsoo left the cafe, feeling a little faint. He didn’t come home straight away and drove around by himself for a little while. 

The music was too loud. 

Club Overdose. It was an ordinary Friday night with the youth of the city outside and behaving at their absolute worst. Kyungsoo was no different-- but he felt different, because Chanyeol was out too, which never happened. He liked standing bars. Clubbing wasn't his thing. So why are you here? He asked him.

_Because you're here._

_And?_

Chanyeol's face was serious as he shrugged the whole questioning off. He was even dressed for the occasion: in all-black, thin tee and tight pants. His dark hair was a little longer than when he arrived and the entirety of his form was on show tonight: muscular and fit, shaped by his years in hard military training and consistent diet of hard liquor and cigs.

He attracted attention from everyone. Countless invites to dance and drink from one step in. He largely refused. Kyungsoo figured that he still preferred the environment of his old-man standing bars. They didn't spend the night side-by-side but always within glancing distance. Kyungsoo indulged in his free evening but found that he wanted to drink less knowing that he was being watched and would be dragged home the second he did anything out of line.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Kyungsoo registered that Baekhyun's laugh was louder than the music. He had turned up never one to miss a gig. Chanyeol’s presence was a source of particular excitement and he refused to let slip any chance of getting the taller man into the party. Chanyeol’s resolve was impressive. Kyungsoo had to give it to him. But whatever care he retained, he tried not to show. It was still a Friday night. Kyungsoo was young and he wanted to enjoy himself. He didn’t have to care about his killjoy guard all of the time. 

" _It's my treat. Come on Miyoungie!"_

A girl appeared from the top of the staircase, across the booth they surveyed the dance floor from. Tall, sexy and dark - like she’d elegantly stepped off a magazine cover. Her dress was short enough to show the insanity of her proportions. It was unsurprising that she would be around Baekhyun as those types of girls were his type when he clubbed. But then, she didn’t end up having her arms around Baekhyun. Instead, they rested around Chanyeol’s neck. 

Her hips. His hands.

Clearly, there were some things even the most stubborn couldn’t refuse. The thrum of the music was hard and heavy, completely out of rhythm with the slow purposeful way she danced on him. _Flash_ \- the lights in the main room brightened and dimmed, plunging their booth in and out of darkness. Kyungsoo couldn’t take his eyes off them. He wondered whether it was a trick of the light or was Chanyeol really capable of smiling that widely. 

The music transitioned. The light show stopped. She had stopped dancing but their lips were firmly together. He couldn’t even see anything past the smooth flow of her hair over them. 

Kyungsoo took a shot. One for the money. And then another. Two for the fun. He gave Baekhyun a playful slap on the head and then jerked his thumb towards the dance floor to say that he was going to dance. The journey barely took him a minute. This was the best club in the city and like all good clubs, the dancing was ceaseless. People danced even when all you can hear from the floor was the violent thumps of the bass. The crowd was large and overwhelming enough that it felt almost, at times, that one was dancing in complete isolation. 

He was no different. Shifted between bodies and touches, Kyungsoo partied and enjoyed himself. The buzz of the alcohol was still on his tongue. He danced and jumped until his limbs felt boneless. Not alone though. He’d caught the eye of a guy. A nothing-special guy. Not cute like Seonho. But Kyungsoo liked having his hands on him - he smelled good, and he rather liked the things he was whispering in his ear. 

" _Gotcha_." 

Motions in the dark. The warmth around him disappeared as the stranger was knocked back. 

In the flashing strobe, Chanyeol’s face. His voice. " _Are you done_?"

He rolled his eyes. " _I hate you._ " Kyungsoo said. Yelled. “ _Shithead!_ "

He pushed against Chanyeol’s chest. Hands came and rested around Kyungsoo’s waist, startling him, pushing him to recognition as he heard the stranger’s voice from behind him. 

" _Hey-- is he bothering you?_ "

" _He’s OK. Get out of here._ "

Chanyeol stepped forward. Without thinking, Kyungsoo’s hand reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt. There was so much yelling. He could barely hear the DJ. 

And then, he was hurled forwards into Chanyeol. Realising what had happened, something snapped. 

" _Hey! Don't touch him!_ " The voice was his own. Kyungsoo turned, barely able to see, and he pushed at the stranger - “ _Don’t you fucking touch him!_ ” 

He must have said something else - a lot of stuff - but he couldn’t remember. All of them, meaningless, left discarded on the club dance floor as Chanyeol wrapped an arm over him and took them out fast away from the crowd and towards the exit hallway where there was quiet. 

They stumbled out.

The lights were unbelievably bright. Kyungsoo stopped laughing when he felt a heavy fatigue grip his body. He must have danced harder there than he had all semester. When he looked at him, Chanyeol was sweating. His fists were balled and red. He nodded when Chanyeol asked him if he was OK and nodded again to acknowledge when he said it back. 

To ease the tension, Kyungsoo laughed a little and watched as Chanyeol’s fists uncurled - with one hand smoothing the crumple against his forehead instead. He straightened up, before asking - 

_"Are you going home with her?"_

_“What?”_

_“That girl. Are you taking her home?”_

_"No. I'm going home with you."_

Maybe he had proposed the question too seriously. Kyungsoo wasn’t sure where he had wanted the conversation to go. He looked at the ceiling and allowed the strength of the light to pierce his eyes - and then he told him to go and take her that home if that’s what he wants. _I don’t want that. Well, why not - you seem like you’re into her so_

Chanyeol huffed at him. " _I already warned you about this. Kyungsoo. Stop_.”

_"Why? Why should I?”_ Kyungsoo snapped, _“You can’t fucking tell me what to do.”_ And then his eyes were on Chanyeol again as he moved towards the door, _“Whatever. I’m going to go back in.”_

Chanyeol shook his head, blocking the way.

_“What do you want from me?”_

_“Nothing. So move.”_

_“God, you’re such a fucking pain in the ass!”_

The words sparked something heated in Kyungsoo as he moved to the door and struggled to move the gangster out of the way. 

_“Stop! Just stop being around me! Leave me alone!”_

Kyungsoo was furious enough to be rendered thoughtless. He thought only of anger - and guilt - and thought he would burn out completely from the inside until he felt Chanyeol’s warm hands draw his face to his before kissing him. 

_“There.”_

It finished. The brightness was striking. It was quick enough he hadn’t even had enough time to close his eyes. 

Chanyeol was facing the wall with a fist to it. One strike. Two. Both gentle.

_“There. Is that what you want? Fuck. Fuck you, Kyungsoo. Fuck you to hell. You know that we can’t -- I can’t do this -- and still you push and you push and for what? To screw everything up? To make everything worse? Why can’t you just accept that this is how it is and how it’s always going to be. Nothing that you and I do will change the fact that this can never happen. We can kiss each other and fuck each other behind everybody’s back for the rest of our lives … but for what? Why should we waste any more of our lives on each other when the reality is I’ll always be nothing but the fucking getaway driver to a car you own?”_

Silence. Only the audible thudding from the dance floor behind the dry-wall. Chanyeol exhaled loudly and spun around until his back was against the wall. 

_“Nice speech.”_ Kyungsoo said. He moved forwards, intentional, until he was in front of him. Just as close as they had been on the dance floor. _“But I still want to fuck.”_

_“God, who even are you anymore?”_ Chanyeol grunted as he pulled his body against his, harsh, and kissed him until Kyungsoo was gasping aloud for air.

_“Fuck, we aren’t doing this here.”_

They choose to sober up in a love hotel not far from the club.

It was the first time they’d shared a bed for a while. Kyungsoo asked, genuinely, if it was something that Chanyeol wanted to do. They didn’t have to do anything. They could just sit up and talk like they used to. In a love hotel? In a car? He was just happy that he was home. Really. 

But Kyungsoo wasn’t all that great at lying. With a single kiss on his forehead - and nose - he heard a confession. 

_“I want you. Always have.”_

His heartbeat raced as Chanyeol’s lips touched his.

_“Really?”_

_“You’re the only one I want.”_

He closed his eyes and tasted him. Wrapped his arms around him. And then, rested their fingers together - marvelled at the pairing of the twin roses.

_“I want this too.”_

They fuck an inordinate amount that first night. 

One night quickly turned into a second night. A third. Nights. Days. But still, Kyungsoo insisted on seeing Seonho every Friday. This was their time to discuss their progress on the travel plans. Over coffee, Kyungsoo paid for his half of the flight fees despite knowing he would part his legs for another later in the evening. He kissed him just as sweetly too.

_“I love you._ ” He told Seonho under the awning of the cafe before he walked out to meet Chanyeol who was stood outside of the car, smoking.

Chanyeol threw Seonho a wave before they left. And then, somewhere between the highway and the suburban West fields, Kyungsoo kissed Chanyeol sweetly on the mouth.

The situation was so volatile that a twenty-minute drive meant that Kyungsoo returned to news of one of their local warehouses being targeted. It was up in flames. Nothing half as serious as what they had done to the other party but a taste perhaps of what was to come. 

Kyungsoo’s first instinct was to give Chanyeol a call. 

“Are you OK?”

_Yeah._

“Where are you?”

_Outside your window, on the complex._

He opened his window. Beneath, he spotted Chanyeol’s form underneath a large fog of smoke.

“You lost,” he told him. 

Chanyeol waved his hand.

“Vaping doesn’t count.”

Kyungsoo wrapped himself up for the chill and joined Chanyeol outside. He figured that he knew exactly where he’d been so there was no point in explaining himself. Instead he directed the conversation to the fire. It hadn’t been all that surprising that they would retaliate - but it was still enough to spook his uncles.

“Guess it just goes to shitcreek from here,” Chanyeol mused. “We may have started something big.”

“Regret it yet?” Kyungsoo questioned. “Picking me up from Tokyo?”

A crooked grin. Chanyeol looked at him and shook his head. The wind was cold under the tree that arched over them. Kyungsoo placed his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder for warmth - and comfort. He watched the puffs of smoke vanish into the dark.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier.” Chanyeol said. “It was out of line.”

“It’s OK.” He closed his eyes, feeling out how much faster his heart was beating. “But you should know something…”

“What?”

“I am going to date Kim Jongin because I want us to be on good terms with the Kims.” 

He sensed the man’s motions desist. The warmth of the smoke disappeared. Kyungsoo pushed his face closer into the fabric of Chanyeol’s shoulder, feeling irrationally hot in that second as he thought about how his words may have seemed. Rash. Stupid. _Reckless_.

“Nah, you don’t- that’s not on you.”

Chanyeol would never approve. He hadn’t planned on telling him so soon. But knowing the direction and speed in which things were moving, Kyungsoo was forced to make his decision much earlier than he had planned. 

“It is on me.”

“No- _no_.”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo opened his eyes to the intensity of Chanyeol’s angry gaze. “Think about it and you’ll see where I’m coming from. It puts us in a better position to get what we need. And besides it won’t mean anything anyway.”

“It’s _still_ wrong. He’s dangerous. His family’s dangerous. _I don’t trust him._ ”

“Neither do I.” 

“Then why the fu-”

“The fire is just a fire. Soon, it won’t be just fire. It will be gunfire. I’m doing my bit to minimise the damage to our family… he’s… more than willing and so am I.”

Chanyeol would never approve. Every part of his response was predictable and quintessentially him. And a part of Kyungsoo was glad for it - because where could he place himself? His feelings? If it turned out that Chanyeol would be absolutely onboard with him giving himself to someone else. 

“I’m asking you to reconsider.”

“And I’m asking you to stop being a little bitch about it.”

A scowl. Chanyeol scowled unhappily in his face. Kyungsoo laughed at the sight, and without another thought, leaned forward and captured his lips. It was a brief kiss. The soft wind rustled when they came apart and it dawned on Kyungsoo then, how seemingly alone they were. How for the first time in their whole lives, Kyungsoo could say that he was unshackled to feel whatever he wanted. He waited out the seconds, let the flow of his thoughts steady, and allowed Chanyeol to kiss him back. The kiss was longer. It was a message.

“Just go back to Tokyo.” Chanyeol kissed his forehead. “I don’t like where any of this is going.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” 

“It’s easier than what you’re proposing.”

“Well I don’t think I can leave you.” 

“What?”

“I don’t think I can leave you again. I’ve done it once. I’m not going to do it again. Even if you begged me. I’m _not going to leave you_.”

Echoes of their past, like the wind, travelled past - slow, deep and warm, and Kyungsoo felt himself shiver as he was kissed again - and again - knowing that it was shared, that what he was saying was understood and _right_. 

Two days from now. Kyungsoo confirmed to Chanyeol that he would share his agreement with Jongin. 

But until then - 

They still had tonight together.

"You taste like popcorn." Kyungsoo said with a smile, 

Chanyeol poked his cheek. They laid flat on Kyungsoo’s bed; the lights were dimmed to a pleasant sleepy amber. They only stopped kissing to talk; argue. 

"You're so annoying."

They tugged at each other's clothes. Chanyeol kissed the span of Kyungsoo's bare shoulder as the fabric was removed. Anticipating, he shivered, unbuckling the metal of Chanyeol’s belt as he slid the denim off, their lips catching in process. The kisses started soft - subtle brushes, with a hint of teasing. But as the clothes were removed, and the heat of their skin pressed closer, they became open-mouthed; wet. A touch rougher.

Chanyeol had never been one for sweetness in bed. This hadn’t changed in the intervening years. Surges of heat clouded Kyungsoo’s head as he was pushed up the bed, moaning from the sensitivity as Chanyeol pressed his lips down his body with practiced intention-

“You better be this fucking loud when I’m in you.” He whispered in his ear. He gave their cocks a dry stroke, causing Kyungsoo to jolt up, sighing needily into his skin - “All you ever do is tease.”

There was no intention to play around. Like no time at all had passed, Chanyeol fucked him up the bed in an aggressive pace - leaving the sheets in a defeated pile on the floor - as the wall was struck helpless with the constant _thud-thud-thud_. Flashes of pleasure rocked through Kyungsoo, as he played the game, pleasing his lover right back. In this position, he was forced to remember all the tricks they had tried. He remembered how he liked them best on all fours. Loud. Liked it messy; liked it to _hurt_.

Nobody knew him like he did.

Chanyeol shifted his position. The pleasure inside him deepened. They moaned in tandem, as their lips slipped into a kiss. Breathless, Kyungsoo’s back arched against the bed, contented. Yet needing.

“He won’t fuck you like this,” Chanyeol told him. 

He’s right. Because Kyungsoo would never let him - in the same way that he had never let anyone. Nobody was allowed to touch him like _him_.

“No, no. Just you. Just-- fuck. _Chanyeol_. Fuck.” 

This was always a special kind of thing - half reward, half punishment. 

All theirs.

_“Do you have feelings for Chanyeol?_ ”

Kyungsoo looked into Seonho’s eyes. His own were tired. Guilty.

“ _What? Why would you ask that?_ ”

Seonho refused to answer his question in the same way he dodged his own. They remained in silence - with coffees between them that were fast growing cold. They didn’t hold hands this time. Kyungsoo figured that he had finally noticed how they were barely spending any time together - or maybe, he had accepted that he wasn’t the only one with the full reigns when it came to Kyungsoo’s body.

Either way.

Here, he was presented with the opportunity to finally tell the truth. To finally end the torment that had been draining him of life for weeks on end. But still, even as he parted his lips, no words came out. Instead he sensed the softness of Seonho’s gaze and revelled in it: that unrelenting loyalty and affection that had protected him from the severity of his own thoughts and choices. It was cleansing to be loved like this, he thought. Addictive even,

“ _I… I don’t really know what else to say aside from the fact that my offer. Our trip. It’s always going to be on the table. I know that I’m outside of your world. And you don’t know me as long as you’ve known him. But I-- I do love you, Kyungsoo. And I want what’s best for you. So that’s why I’m still here. Because I want you to have that out - if and when you want to take it._ ”

The hurt in his tone broke Kyungsoo’s heart. 

“ _I love you._ ” He told him. 

Seonho’s eyes were full of tears and reached for his hand. 

“ _I love you._ ” Kyungsoo repeated. He meant it and held his hand tight. “ _I wouldn’t be here without you._ ”

But life was complicated and he needed time to make his choices. Seonho agreed; of course he did. So they set a date that by the end of the week, Kyungsoo would come with a clear and direct answer and they could take their next steps forward. Together or apart.

It seemed so simple then and the time had felt like forever.

But that was the last time that Kyungsoo would see Seonho alive. The last time he would hear his voice and hold his hand. Had Kyungsoo known this fact, he often wondered what he would’ve done differently: would he have given his answer there and then? Told him that he loved him one last time? 

He’d reasoned that outside of all those probabilities, there was one certainty. Had Kyungsoo known that Seonho would be taken from him that same week, he would’ve let him drive him home just once: for the first and final time. 

Windows down. Music on. Just the two of them, cruising on a long drive to a field of pretty pastel tulips- commemorated in an everlasting memory to reflect the devastating impact his absence would leave in Kyungsoo’s heart for the rest of his life. 

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -  
> a/n: hello everyone! first of all, i'd like to say thank you for reading and for continuing to support this story. i really do appreciate you cheering me on and always being kind.
> 
> second and perhaps most important, please stay safe and take care of yourselves out there! i... i know it's a very stressful time for everyone, and the world seems very chaotic - writing gives me a break from all of that and i hope you guys put your energies into things that give you joy so that any burdens from what's going on in the world is eased for you as well :) <3 
> 
> again, be safe! let's meet next time ~

**Author's Note:**

> this is an indulgent mafia au crossed with whitney houston's the bodyguard. just wanted to put something out to get me through this 1st harsh chansoo-less winter. pls be patient as your author is a full-time office mouse but i'll do my best to update frequently. thanks for reading!


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